


Would It Matter

by Kerriathechosen1



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Acceptance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Eventual Romance, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Fix-It, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Intruceit, M/M, Prinxiety - Freeform, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, demus - Freeform, logicality - Freeform, receit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-12 17:16:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21479986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerriathechosen1/pseuds/Kerriathechosen1
Summary: "Would it matter at all?"A 7-part songfic of Skillet's "Would It Matter", each part dedicated to the internal woes of one of our favorite boys, and ending with lots of family hugs and acceptance. Warnings -- some parts involve self-harm and thoughts of suicide, but nothing TOO graphic.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 39
Kudos: 188





	1. Remus Sanders

Remus sat backwards on the desk chair in his room, rocking it back and forth slowly with a distant gaze in his eyes. Intrusive thoughts were like rain showering down upon him and seeping into his head like water drops through soil. It didn’t bother him -- well, it did, but he was used to it. He was used to getting those sudden disturbing, disorienting thoughts tangled up in his real ones. It was no wonder he was unstable; he couldn’t help but laugh and pretend to enjoy this agonizing mental pain, because if he didn’t… Well, that wouldn’t be good for Thomas, would it?

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_

_If my time was up I'd wanna know_

_You were happy I was there_

Remus flinched -- often the thoughts might distort his perception of the world, but rarely did they hit him with the intensity of these. _Roman wouldn’t care if you died,_ the thoughts whispered. The smallest ounce of logic in him cried out, _Wait, no, that’s not true -- he’d care enough to be enthusiastic about it. _He’d be celebrating. Finally his demonic shadow would be gone; finally he would have nothing to fear or despise with every fiber of his princely being.

Remus was used to his brother’s hatred. It started all the way back in their childhood, when Remus began to creep him out with his drawings and his other ideas of “fun”, such as eating inedible objects like cardboard and batteries, or trapping bugs in containers without oxygen, or finding nudes in magazines and taping them in patterns all over Patton’s walls. Roman was scared, scared that Remus might hurt him -- and though he did have thoughts about it, quite often in fact, he never had.

No; that was a lie, too. Once, when he was very little, and he didn’t understand that the intrusive thoughts could be dangerous, before Patton told him wrong from right... he’d hit his brother with a baseball bat, right in the stomach, and watched him go down while feeling both satisfaction and overwhelming guilt. And there were times when Roman wanted to swordfight, and Remus would sometimes draw blood with his sword, though it wasn’t as if it didn’t go both ways. (In fact, he often preferred to be the one hurt. He would sometimes allow Roman to sneak in a blow, just to feel the warmth of the pain and witness his brother’s proud grin.)

The intrusive thoughts were so strong because, contrary to what the others believed, he did have a moral code, and letting serious harm come unto his brother was one of the few violations of said code. He thought of hurting Roman every day; his brother had a right to fear him. But he’d rarely purposefully acted on those thoughts, despite their excruciating frequency. That had to count for something, right?

But his brother didn’t even like fighting with him anymore, preferring to lurk in the imagination, where he could create his own enemies to defeat and princes to save. If Remus just… vanished… Would Roman be happy? Remus thought he would.

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anyone lose sleep_

_If I wasn't hard and hollow_

_Then maybe you would miss me_

Remus was, as the main sides so elegantly put it, a “dark side”. He was intimidating even when expressing pure joy. He wasn’t as socially competent as the others, and he didn’t try to be. What was the point of pretending? Even if he tried to be like them, Roman would never accept him into their group. He was tainted by the label: “dark side”. He would never be appreciated by the others. He would never be hugged, or cuddled, or fed breakfast, or taken care of when he sustained a life-threatening injury.

Whenever he popped up around the “light sides”, they always turned up their nose at him. He went to his brother, seeking attention, but would be insulted until he left, or even fought, if need be. Logan would simply tell him that he didn’t have time for his shenanigans, and ignore him until he walked out. He rarely went to Patton, because the fatherly side would simply scold him and make him feel guilty for _existing_. And Virgil -- Virgil absolutely hated him, and would do anything in his power to make him go away.

Remus acted happy and ignorant of their hatred, but if he couldn’t distract himself enough, the weight of their disgust just piled up until all he could feel was despair. He tried to laugh it away, but it barely lightened the load.

No one would miss him. He was a mess, a freak, a monster.

Roman would sleep well at night if he just… found a way to end it.

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_

“Me? Scary? No no no no no no no… That sounds like a ‘you’ problem. Or a ‘him’ problem.”

“Thomas, like it or not, the Duke does encompass a portion of your imagination.”

_Like it or not_. Remus never should have entertained the possibility of acceptance from the others. That was a Roman sort of thought, reeking of positivity that he did not agree with.

The others told him several times what was wrong with him.

“You _reek_, bro!” Roman exclaimed in disgust, pinching his nose as he swiftly left the room.

Logan huffed.“I simply don’t understand what prompts you to engage in such… grotesque manners.”

“Now, now, Remus -- that’s not nice at all.” Patton’s patronizing voice was mildly irritating. “Why don’t you go back to your room for a while.”

Virgil’s hate-filled words lashed out at him most. “Get out of here, Duke, you’re poisoning the air every time you open your mouth.”

But it was Thomas’s meek, frightened face that hurt most. “You’re… _scary_.”

Remus heard their voices circulating once again, beating out the intrusive thoughts with their sheer force. It made him want to slam his head against the wall.

_Do it do it do it do it._

… So why didn’t he?

A rush of adrenaline coursed through his body, and he was on his feet with a crazed look on his face, the instincts stronger than he could control. Before he knew it, he was acting on those thoughts, bashing his head against the wall with a wild scream and chaotic laughter.

This was what they wanted, wasn’t it? Him to _die_? So be it. He’d try his best.

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

The one thing they didn’t get about Remus was, he wasn’t just the creator of intrusive thoughts -- he suffered from them himself, constantly. It was like how Virgil experienced his own anxiety, and Roman’s creative bursts would keep him up well past midnight. He didn’t just create terror, he lived through it as well.

And the others hated him for it.

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_

_Still stuck inside this sorrow_

_I got nothin' and going nowhere_

Remus’s laughter turned into sobs, as he lamented his own detrimental existence. He wanted to leave, so bad, to escape from these thoughts. His pain had grown over the years, and finally it had reached a tipping point.

The blood was all over the walls at this point, but he didn’t stop.

His head throbbed worse than anything he’d ever felt before, but he didn’t stop.

A hand gripped his shoulder painfully tight, but he didn’t--

**“REMUS!!!”**

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_

His brother was there -- of course. Ever the hero, pulling him out of his deadly trance.

Virgil stood much further back, by the door, eyes wide and anxious. Why was he here? Remus didn’t understand.

“Bro -- oh no, oh my god, look, Remus -- look at me,” Roman’s voice sounded panicked. Remus tried to look at him, but the blood and white spots started to cloud his vision, and his balance was off. Everything seemed strangely fuzzy, and not real at all.

“I’ll go get Logan,” Virgil spoke, his voice sounding distant and fading still, quiet like the last thing someone would hear before he fell uncon--

Oh.

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

Remus woke up on a soft bed -- not his own. _His _bed had spikes on the posts, and his pillows weren’t particularly soft. This bed was much more comfortable, with white sheets with red lines running parallel to one another. He strained his eyes against the light, wondering why anyone would turn them on so bright. The ceiling and walls were the same pure white, as if no wrong could ever be done. Even the table beside him, bold red with a white lamp and Simba stickers decorating the top, had a particular extravagance to it. Remus knew where he was without a doubt -- he was in Roman’s room.

Groaning, Remus picked up the notebook and pen beside the bed, planning on doodling just a few disturbing images onto his brother’s book. It was as close to payback as he could get.

This wasn’t going to end well.

He should have made sure to end it.

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_Can you help me forget, don't wanna feel like this forever_

“Bro.”

Remus hesitantly let his eyes search for the source of the voice. Roman was sitting on the edge of a chair on the other side of his bed, elbows pressed firmly against the bed’s surface -- much closer to Remus than he would’ve ever expected his brother to willingly be.

His brother’s face was solemn, though he could tell there was a carefully hidden anger lurking just beneath the surface. He saw it in his brother’s eyes, in the tension of his posture, and in the light grimace he made when their eyes made contact.

Remus forced a grin, though it looked ever so natural. Acting was an unfortunate talent amongst the sides, both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse, because a lack of truth and honesty between the sides simply led to more conflict and more inner turmoil for Thomas.

“Heeeeeey. Did you give me tongue when I was out? _Hmmmmmmmm_?”

Roman made the wise choice to ignore him, narrowing his eyebrows a little. “You remember everything that happened? No memory loss?” Remus shrugged. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Another thing about Remus -- he was typically honest. Painfully, wholeheartedly honest.

“Virgil went to get daddy Lo-Lo. Can I get up now?”

“No. Bro, you gave yourself a _concussion_,” Roman emphasized, hurt flashing in his eyes. “Patton and Logan both agreed you need to rest. Logan printed off a sheet of symptoms to look out for.” Roman jumped up and hurried over to the desk across the room; Remus felt dizzy and tired watching him. His senses were slowly coming back to him, and he began to feel the terrible headache one could expect from banging their head against a wall.

Roman let out an ‘a-ha’ as he snatched up the paper and held it over his head triumphantly. Then he took one look at Remus’s half-present face and hurried back to his side, reading off the list.  
“Headache--”  
“Got that.”

“Blackout--”

“Passed out. That counts.”

“Memory loss--”

“Nope. Shame, that would’ve been three in a row.”

“Con-- Remus, are you making a bingo game right now?”

“Uhhhhhh-huuuuuuuuuh.”

Roman stole the notebook from his brother, gasping when he saw the grotesque zombie bunny Remus had drawn in the corner. “That’s barbaric!”

“Awwww, thanks. But what’s _really _barbaric is stealing from your mortally wounded sibling.”

Roman shot him a glare, but it softened soon after. Remus tilted his head in confusion. That… wasn’t a typical Roman reaction. Even he could tell that, and his mind was foggy and fatigued.

“Nausea?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Because I refuse to be the one cleaning up--”

“Ohp. Never mind. There it is.”

Roman barely got the trash can under him in time. Remus puked, eyeing the color as it came out and chiming in, “Huh. Is that a healthy shade of puke, Roman?”

“Ugh.” Roman turned away, his body tense with disgust. “You’re sick.”

“Always have been. Always will be,” Remus grinned. But there was something different in the way he said it -- as if he meant more than just his physical state. Roman, as oblivious as he usually was, somehow managed to catch this, and looked a little disturbed.

“Remus… Why did you do it?”

Remus laughed, leaning back and wiping his mouth with his sleeve, before licking it. “Why do I do anything, brother?”

“... Well, I’m not quite sure. At first, I thought it was just to annoy me. Then I thought you merely wanted to make people uncomfortable. But… what you did yesterday… It just doesn’t make sense why you would go that far, even if I assume either of those motives. So I must come to the conclusion that… something else was the matter.”

“And how’s Thomas?” Remus’s right hand reached under his left sleeve and began scratching, _hard_. He didn’t even realize it at first, until the pain brought him out of his daze. When he realized what he was doing, though, he didn’t stop -- he scratched _harder_.

Roman blinked, uncertain as to how that related. “... Thomas? He’s fine. But that’s not the point, the point is--”

Remus grinned. “Well, Roman, if Thomas is _fine_, then what point is there in lecturing me?”

Roman’s voice rose to a yell. “Because you’re _not _fine!”

“But I’m Thomas,” Remus replied. “I’m flattered by the attention, brother mine, but if Thomas is fine, then there’s no need to fret over a madman like myself.” He nearly paused, for a moment wondering if he should stop, but wasn’t one for censorship, so he went further. “Clearly, Thomas doesn’t need me. In fact, I’d say he might feel better if I was gone.”

“_Falsehood_.”

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

Remus knew whose voice it was, but he turned his head to look at him anyway. Logan was standing in the doorway with a book in his hands and a softness to his eyes.

Remus turned to his brother to make a joke, but was surprised to find Roman’s eyes hadn’t left his face, and he looked absolutely mortified.

“What’s _your _problem?”

“M-My problem?” Roman somehow looked even sadder. “Bro… You don’t… you don’t really believe what you just said, do you…?”

Remus knew he was getting himself into trouble, but when did that stop him? “Well, duh, of course I do. It doesn’t take a creative mind to come up with a fact.”

Logan closed his eyes. “Remus, you serve an important purpose in Thomas’s mind. Whatever you have come to believe, I implore you to try and recall the facts.”

“You’re asking… _me… _to be _logical_?” Remus barked out a hysterical laugh, unsettling Roman, who shuffled in his spot.

“Remus… Remus, I really just want to know… Tell it to me straight… _Why _did you do it?”

“Why did I do it…” Remus stopped scratching his arm, briefly considering the question. He didn’t like looking for the “why”. He just _did_. He didn’t often think things through, because sticking too long in his own mind was nightmarish. But he knew Roman wouldn’t accept that response, he would keep pushing, keep trying to dig in further.

Remus shrugged. “I just wanted the thoughts to stop.”

Roman squinted. “Thoughts?”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Oh… I see… Remus, I… I’m so sorry…”

“What?” Roman turned his gaze on the logical side. “What, what is it?”

“... Remus is the embodiment of creativity, just as you are. More positive… family-friendly ideas, if you will, keep you up at night sometimes, correct?”

“... Yeah?”

“Well, what do you think keeps Remus up at night?”

Roman frowned, deep in thought. Remus groaned and threw the notebook across the floor, sitting up so quickly that his head rushed, the headache intensifying. “Oh, come on, brother. You know as well as I do the power of intrusive thoughts.”

Horror flashed in Roman’s eyes. “No… Y-You… You don’t _choose-_?”

“Can I go home now?” Remus whined, moving to get out of the bed. Roman’s hand shot out and latched onto his forearm.

“No,” he whispered. “You are staying right here until this is all sorted out.” He shook his head in denial. “… I just don’t understand. Why did you hide this for so long?”

“Oh, Roman,” His brother laughed, but there was no humor glistening in his eyes. “I never hid anything at all. No one cared enough to look.”

_If I left tomorrow would anybody care_

_Stuck in this sorrow_

_Going nowhere_

The self-deprecating thoughts returned, and Remus’s eyes grew distant. He continued to claw at his arms beneath his shirt.

“Remus. Ignore them. They’re lies,” Logan stated. Roman noticed the change in his brother’s behavior, and engulfed him in a fierce hug.

“I care,” he promised. Remus laughed in objection, but Roman only tightened the hug. “You come to me, bro -- we can -- we can work through this. Don’t -- don’t do that again, you come to me, all right?”

“I used to.”

Roman’s eyes teared up. He could remember Remus coming to his room often in the past, but he always pushed him out, annoyed by his brother’s clinginess and disturbing words. He’d never thought something was seriously wrong. “Well, do it again. I… I don’t want you gone forever.”

Remus hummed, not quite believing him, but appreciating the attention. He craved attention; he didn’t realize just how much.

Footsteps approached, and Logan stepped into the room, allowing Virgil, Patton, and Deceit to pop in the doorway. Patton looked sympathetic as always, and Virgil had looked anxious at first, but when he saw the brotherly embrace, a small smile tugged at his lips. Deceit looked absolutely terrified, and he was the only one who didn’t give the brothers space, instead rushing forward and pushing Roman away, wrapping his arms around Remus, one hand around his back, one gently holding the back of his head. His hold was tighter than Roman’s -- more fierce, protective, and fearful. The other sides were shocked; they’d never seen Deceit so emotional.

“I _wasn’t _so worried…” Tears streamed down Deceit’s face as he held his pseudo-son. “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again…”

“_Daaaaad_, Roman was hugging me,” Remus mumbled. Roman, who had been knocked off balance by Deceit’s push, had been glaring at the snakelike side, but now he looked to his brother with guilt in his eyes. He was his _brother_, and he hadn’t hugged him in _years_. So long that the one literally called _Deceit _was the only one showing him any affection. No wonder his brother thought so little of himself.

Sure, he didn’t really like Remus’s role. Sure, he despised those intrusive thoughts he sent into Thomas’s head. But those weren’t just his. They plagued him, and it was Roman’s job as the prince to protect _all _of the sides from demons, internal or otherwise.

“I know,” Deceit whispered. He hugged Remus tightly for a good long minute, then reluctantly pulled away. He seemed to sense how his presence put the others on edge, and though he looked longingly at the wounded side, he backed away and allowed the others to approach. Remus and Roman sat side-by-side on the bed; Virgil sat on his other side with his legs pulled into his chest, Patton sat on a chair beside the bed, and Logan stood off to the side. Virgil glanced up once everyone had gotten in a secure position, but Deceit had already vanished.

Remus gazed around at this family around him -- the light sides, which he could never be a part of… and yet, they were here, for him. After all that he’d done, they were here. He didn’t understand, but it made him happy, and the thoughts diminished in their presence.

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

“Give me another chance,” Roman pleaded. “Give us a chance to know and support you. I promise, we won’t let you down -- I won’t.”

“I do not say this lightly, but…” Logan sighed. “If you are… struggling… you may come to me for a distraction. I’m sure I could prepare a few suitable alternatives to violence.”

“Kiddo, I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.” Patton gently held Remus’s hands in his own, causing Remus to flinch. Patton held them more firmly. “You’re part of this family.”

“Y-Yeah…” Virgil scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed. “I know what it’s like… Well, maybe not exactly, but I can say that these guys… They’re always willing to help. Don’t try to handle things on your own. … And I guess if you have no other option, you can bother me -- IF -- you have no other -- Just… just don’t do anything stupid. You know?”

Remus’s eyes were shining with unshed tears, but the sarcasm poured out regardless. “Stupid is as stupid does. Not gonna promise something I don’t intend on keeping, Virgey.”

“That’s all right, kiddo.” Patton smiled sadly. “Just promise us that you won’t hurt yourself, okay? You come to us if you think you might _**act** _on those thoughts; that’s all we ask. Okay?”

Four pairs of eyes turned on Remus, whose head was now down-turned, like he was trying to hide his face from them. The silence carried for several seconds, and just as Roman was about to break it, Remus pulled up his sleeve, exposing the torn skin and open cuts he’d just made with his sharp fingernails. Roman and Patton gasped; Logan and Virgil just looked on with concerned eyes. The tears finally leaked out of Remus’s eyes, and he let out a broken sob as the other sides stared at him with heartbreak in each and every eye.

** _“I acted."_ **


	2. Deceit Sanders

Deceit was prone to lying. It was part of his job, of course. He wasn’t supposed to be moral, or creative, or anxious -- but he also didn’t think he was supposed to be depressed. Logically (which, sure, he wasn’t supposed to be, either), his persona should have been entirely about deception, but he wasn’t exactly fond of it. In putting on his facades, he lost almost everything he cared about. He’d always thought Patton was wrong, that lying was necessary to Thomas being happy… But if _he _wasn’t even happy, how could he believe that anymore?

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_

_If my time was up I'd wanna know_

_You were happy I was there_

Virgil and Remus… did they miss him? He hoped they still loved him, but he doubted it. If they cared about him even half as much as he did them, they would have visited more. He missed the warmth of their home, Remus’s laughter and boundless energy, Virgil’s snark and sarcasm, the way they’d run eagerly when he called them for big meals, the sudden sleepovers they’d have in a pile on the kitchen floor...

But then things changed. They found more happiness in the “light sides”, and went off on their own. It was almost as if they forgot he even existed. It was like they didn’t care. Maybe they never did. Maybe it was all just a lie he’d been telling himself.

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anyone lose sleep_

_If I wasn't hard and hollow_

_Then maybe you would miss me_

Even Remus was starting to get integrated into the group. He was spending more and more time with his brother, but also with the other light sides individually. He and Logan didn’t necessarily get along the best, but he seemed to like pestering the logical side, and Logan was making a strenuous effort not to show his frustration. Strangely enough, Remus and Patton got along fairly well -- Remus had turned to him as his new father figure, pretty much abandoning Deceit altogether. Deceit witnessed Patton scolding Remus several times, but there were rare occasions when he saw them baking or singing and dancing together -- moments that would make Deceit green with envy. And then, of course, there was Virgil, who was definitely uncomfortable with the Duke’s return, but had never really hated him, and was slowly beginning to accept his presence. Remus was accepted by everybody now -- and even if he wasn’t loved by them all, he was much, much closer to gaining their absolute devotion.

But Deceit? No, Deceit didn’t have anybody. He was alone. Just how he liked it... Of course, he _liked _it. That’s what he had to tell himself. _Lies_. Because all he had, his only defense mechanism against the cavernous pain, was _lies_.

If he didn’t lie, he’d have to face the fact that even Thomas wouldn’t miss him.

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_

Weeks of self-doubt, self-deprecating thoughts, and envy made him desperate. One day, Deceit popped up in the kitchen, deciding to try something new. Roman and Logan were there; the former had been sitting on a stool while chattering away about his latest adventures in the imagination, and the latter had been solving a difficult puzzle while supervising the soup on the stove. Deceit yearned for soup, but he didn’t have a working stove anymore -- it was far too cold now down there, irrationally cold. He couldn’t bother searching for the reason. Perhaps that was why the others left. Or did it become colder after they were gone? He couldn’t remember.

Logan took a cautious step back, his body posture alert, but his expression firm. Roman’s hand jumped for his sword instinctively; Deceit’s eyes narrowed in on his nervous grip. _So that’s how he sees me._ Deceit’s gaze lifted, appearing unfazed by the detail.

“Why are you here?” Roman demanded.

“Why, because I’m a mess, of course,” Deceit smirked, his voice sounding sinister. “I’d _love _to become a better person, like all of _**you**..._ but I’m afraid I don’t know how.”

Roman sneered. “As if a noble prince could let a slithering snake like you deceive me! Mope all you like, you won’t ever trick the likes of us!”

Deceit looked to Logan, hoping the more logical side would see his point, but he was met with a sturdy glare. “We are not in the mood to play your games. I think it would be best for us all if you remove yourself from our presence, immediately.”

Logan then turned to Roman, and stated, “Roman, please, continue your story.”

“But--” The prince’s eyes flashed back to their unwanted guest.

“Ignore him.”

Roman looked skeptical, but he jumped right back into his tale. He shot Deceit a glance every few seconds, but Logan refused to acknowledge his existence. Eventually, Roman seemed to forget he was there as well. Deceit’s heart sunk -- they didn’t even believe him a little. Upset, but masking it very well, he sank back down into the dark side of the house.

It was like being pulled from summer to winter, or being sucked into a Dementor’s kiss. All the light and warmth faded, until there was nothing but a chilly despair. The house was like Thomas’s, except everything was dimmer and more sullen, and it felt like the house was forty degrees.

But that was okay. He was used to it by now. (_That was a lie._)

Deceit dragged himself into the kitchen. He couldn’t make himself warm tea anymore, but that was all right; he always had some made, sitting out on the kitchen counter. He took the cup and sat down at the table, taking a sip. Cold. Yes, everything was that way now, wasn’t it?

He glanced around himself. The table still had three chairs. The others, he’d removed and placed in other areas around the house, because they were never needed. He should have done that once Virgil left, but he’d held onto hopeless hope that the anxious side might come back, at least to visit. That didn’t happen. Then Remus left, and… And yeah. This was fine.

(_That was a lie._)

Deceit shivered, causing his cup of tea to tremble in his grip. He was safe, alone here in his dark, familiar abode, but he couldn’t get comfortable. All Deceit could think about was Logan’s icy stare, and how eerily close his words were to “we’d all be better off without you.”

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

Deceit sat at his desk for hours on end, formulating plans to try and get closer to the others -- but nothing worked. He planned a horror movie night in his living room and invited Remus and Virgil and all the others (through notes -- he was far too nervous of their reaction in person), but nobody came. He’d been surprised; he thought at least _Remus _would show up, but he’d decided instead to watch some Tim Burton films with his brother. Deceit was so filled with shame and embarrassment that he didn’t dare go to see any of the other sides for a couple weeks.

Then, Deceit tried asking Logan and Patton if they could have a tea and chat sometime, but Patton had been openly hesitant and Logan simply refused him outright. No one wanted to risk being poisoned by a _snake_.

Remus was accepting enough of him, but he also was easily distracted by the others as of late, and he’d get annoyed if Deceit bothered him too much.

Nothing was working, but they weren’t giving him a chance to show them, that he could be someone worthwhile, that he could be part of their group.

_‘Just another chance,’_ he thought miserably. _‘I just need another chance.’_

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_

_Still stuck inside this sorrow_

_I got nothin' and going nowhere_

Days passed, and he found himself swallowed up in one of his depressed funks. Deceit curled up in his bed, struggling to keep warm under three blankets and wearing two layers of clothes. His head felt… weird. He didn’t know how to explain it -- it didn’t necessarily hurt, but something didn’t feel right, either. His body was fatigued, and his mind was numb. He tried to curl in on himself, wondering if he could make himself disappear -- like Pac-Man, folding into itself.

He wished he could say that the darkness was comforting, that at least something was. But it wasn’t. He felt miserable lying there, but the idea of getting up was even worse. He didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t fall asleep, and he couldn’t distract himself from this feeling. He kept thinking about the others’ reactions to him, how he kept screwing up every chance he got.

“There’s no point… There’s just no point…” He whispered to himself, the thoughts soothing in a sort of… frightening way. “They don’t want you here. They’ll never accept you the way they accepted the Duke. You’ll always be miserable, stuck in your own sorrow here. You’ll never leave, and the pain will never stop. You’ll never escape it.”

His depression consumed him. He spent days in his funk, sleeping as much as possible, tormenting himself when he was awake. No one came for him, and no one thought of him. It hurt so much. He’d hoped someone would be able to _tell _something was wrong with him… but he _was _a liar, after all. Not even Virgil or Remus ever seemed to suspect what went on in his head.

Yes; he’d suffered from these moods for a long, long time. But they’d never gotten this bad. He’d always been able to pull himself out of it, thinking of his precious dark sides, and Thomas. They were his motivation. He still had Thomas, but he was beginning to doubt Thomas wanted or needed him, and thus his feelings of worthlessness deepened. It was the lowest of his lows.

He knew he needed help. After weeks and weeks of suffering, he finally decided to try again.

He rose into the realm of the light sides.

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_

Deceit rose into the living room, where Patton and Virgil were sitting on the couch, watching _Lady and the Tramp_. Their eyes went wide at the sight of him. He grinned at the sight -- Patton was in the center of the couch, clearly trying to cuddle, while Virgil was squeezing himself against the armrest. His amusement quickly died when Virgil’s face contorted into absolute disgust. Deceit wanted to cry.

“Deceit. What are you doing here.” The anxious side looked more ready for fight than flight. Patton was looking into Deceit’s eyes, at first afraid, but then confused, like he saw something there that he hadn’t been expecting.

“Well, as a matter of _fact_, I came here today seeking your assistance.”

“With what?” Virgil snapped. Deceit’s hands came together, but not in a villainous gesture; in fact, the more he examined them, Virgil noticed how shaky and insecure they looked. He was still suspicious, but the tension left his shoulders as he began eyeing his old companion. As soon as Deceit opened his mouth, Virgil regretted his attitude.

“With… well, with my mental health, it seems.” Patton’s eyes softened, and Virgil’s widened once more. Deceit didn’t give them a chance to respond, quickly speaking to avoid a settling silence. “You see, I’ve come to believe that there may be a problem with me, and I’ve been trying to solve it on my own, but it’s been a long, long time, and it doesn’t seem to have changed for the better yet. I’m beginning to lose faith, to be honest, and that frightens me, being that I am -- or at least _was _\-- a major part of Thomas’s self-preservation. I’ve considered that perhaps this is Thomas’s way of saying he no longer needs me, that maybe I’m fading away because I’m supposed to, but if that’s the case, I don’t know why it hasn’t _**happened** _yet, or if I’m supposed to do something about it myself--” Deceit froze, realizing he was rambling. He looked up to see two nervous sides, giving each other the side-eye; he realized they were hesitating to react because they thought he might be tricking them.

_‘What am I doing?! I shouldn’t be here!’_ His instincts kicked in, telling him to lie, to get out of there, before they confirmed his darkest impressions.

Deceit forced a grin. “Oh, you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve been practicing my acting skills; I think I’ve grown quite good at it. Excuse me, now.” He dropped down, not letting himself sob until he was out of sight and hearing.

Patton glanced at Virgil. “... Kiddo… I think we need to hold a family meeting.”

Virgil hesitated. Part of him wanted to say Deceit was lying, like usual, but he had a feeling that wasn’t the case. He was too nervous to just dismiss all those things Deceit had said, because -- and this might be a foolish thing to think, but -- it seemed so honest, like the guy was legitimately breaking… and when Virgil thought about it, it didn’t seem too far-fetched. He had always seen something… frightening… inside of Deceit, but even so, he never doubted that the side cared for him. Maybe that frightening thing was hurting him. Maybe they’d gone too far. 

“Kiddo?”

Virgil nodded. “Yeah. Y-You’re right. Let’s… do that.”

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

Deceit held his head and sobbed into his shirt. _‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’ _The water drops on his chest only made his shivering intensify; he could’ve sworn his room had gotten 10 degrees colder. Maybe Thomas truly _was _trying to kill him, somehow. Maybe he should just…** _let it._**

_‘No. That’s -- that’s -- is that a lie? I don’t even know anymore… I just don’t know…’_

His arms and legs were covered in goosebumps, even through all the layers he was wearing. He had on two layers of sweatpants, plus two long-sleeved shirts and a sweatshirt. He had a scarf on, a hat, gloves, two pairs of socks -- but nothing warmed him up down here. He was nearly suffocating himself by adding layers, and started struggling to breathe. He began to accept that he was meant to die down here, alone. There was no point in bugging the others.

_‘Just end it…’_ he thought. _‘Just find a way to… finish it.’_

Deceit thought. He moved as if he were in a trance, toward the kitchen, where the knives were. He grabbed one, though it was hard to hold in his gloved hand. He slowly aimed it at his face, wondering if the brief physical pain would be as excruciating as the months of suffering he’d already gone through. At least he’d get to feel warmth one last time, when the blood trickled down his forehead--

** _‘STOP.’_ **

He threw the knife at the wall, whimpering as he collapsed and curled into himself. He didn’t know what to do. Tears entered his mouth, the salty drops touching his tongue. He longed for something sweet -- just one last thing, one more ounce of happiness in this world, before he died.

_‘You can’t die yet. Not before you know for sure if it’s what’s best for Thomas.’_

Begrudgingly, he had to agree. If he had to suffer to keep Thomas happy… well, they were all obliged to do whatever it took. He loved the boy far more than himself, and even if he had to live in constant agony forever, he would have to live with it if that’s what Thomas wanted. Not that he thought he _could _\-- not alone. He _couldn’t _do it alone; he wasn’t strong enough.

But it was now or never. He had to know, because he didn’t think he could live another day like this. He had to face Thomas. He needed either help, or death. There was no middle ground.

With those thoughts in mind, he rose up, using all his mental fortitude to call together all of the sides… and brought them all in front of Thomas.

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_Can you help me forget, don't wanna feel like this forever_

Patton and Virgil had just started to tell Remus, Roman, and Logan their concerns about Deceit. To their surprise, Deceit had already spoken with Roman and Logan before, and the two had refused to listen to him. Patton had a very bad feeling about all of this; it was like a slowly dawning horror that he refused to acknowledge, and all of the others were slowly growing uncertain as well.

“Are you sure he’s not just tricking us again? That’s what he does!” Roman pointed out with fierce eyes, but Virgil just shook his head.

“I don’t… I don’t know. But… if he’s _not… _I don’t think I could just let this go.”

“And what do you propose we do about this?” Logan asked, conflict clear in his expression.

“We talk to him,” Patton said firmly. “Together. As a family.”

“A FAMILY? He’s not _part _of our family!” Roman exclaimed. Remus grimaced; no one noticed how strangely quiet he was being. He’d never really thought too deeply about what the others had on their minds -- not unless it had to do with him. He was often in his own world, never focused on the present, rarely on the people around him. He’d always considered Deceit his family, but he never thought it was something the others might question.

“We’re all part of Thomas. We sides stick together!” Patton cried. “I won’t let another dark son of mine feel left out, ever again!” His determined voice halted any argument the others may have had. The room fell silent, and Patton crossed his arms, with a nod of satisfaction. “That’s it. Let’s call a meeting with Thomas. He needs to-- whoa.”

They all felt themselves being called. It was a weak call, but they all felt it nonetheless. They exchanged glances before heeding the call, all popping up in Thomas’s living room. Their host looked concerned; he was standing in the center of the room, looking a little disheveled.  
Patton was the first to speak. “Thomas! What’s the matter, kiddo? Why’d ya call us?”

“I didn’t call you,” he replied, though he wasn’t looking at Patton, he was looking _past _him.

Patton felt a chill run down his spine, sensing the presence of someone from behind. A quiet, strained voice spoke.“I did.”

They all turned around, gasping at the sight of Deceit. His face was pale, sicklier than usual, and he looked much… smaller. His hair looked unwashed and unkempt, and his ordinary clothes looked a size bigger than they had before, suggesting that he’d lost weight; and considering how Thomas was in great shape already, that was more concerning than applause-worthy. His eyes were glistening and he looked like he was in pain.

“Deceit…?” Thomas’s eyes were sympathetic. “What’s up, buddy?”

Deceit looked down at his feet. “... I know… that I’m not one of the most liked, nor the most needed sides… And I’ve come to realize that… my presence here might not be as important as I once believed. I… wanted to ask your opinion, just once, before I do anything rash… Do you truly believe you’d be better off without lies? I know that Virgil could probably take over my other minor functions fairly easily, and then there’d be no need for me to plague your mind any longer. I can then get out of your way for good… out of everyone’s way. I just need to know… do you think you’ll be okay without me? Because, I know… I can’t be the side I wished I could be, for all of you, and… And I don’t think it’s worth trying anymore.”

Thomas and his other five sides looked on in horror as Deceit dropped to his knees, hugging himself as he held back the tears that were starting to form.

_‘He’s asking if we’re okay with him killing himself,’_ Virgil realized. _‘That… that _idiot…’

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

“Deceit, buddy, I… I don’t want you _gone_,” Thomas replied, much more worried now than he had been at first. “I know you guys all have good reasons for being here. You all help me out so much. I don’t think I’d want to change a single one of you, or lose _anybody_, including you.”

“But… all I do lately is _bother _and _hurt _you.”

“Falsehood.” Logan looked uncomfortable with this situation -- too many feelings. “Those are issues with us, not you. All you have done is your job, which is vital to Thomas; he needs someone to show him solutions to his problems that… perhaps might work better for him, that we may be biased against. There are situations where Thomas will inevitably need you, when Patton or myself may... try to steer him the wrong way.” He struggled to admit his shortcomings, but did his best to sound truthful. “In other words… you are needed here.”

Roman gazed searchingly at Deceit, guilt deep in his chest. Remus had once expressed similarly self-deprecating thoughts, and he’d sworn to never let his brother feel so miserable again. But he hadn’t thought to look at the bigger picture, at the rest of the sides around him, who might also be suffering the same way. He’d been too harsh on the dark sides as a whole -- Virgil at the beginning, and then Remus, and now Deceit. Would he ever learn? If he hadn’t been so blind and stupid, maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.

Patton kneeled down in front of Deceit, placing a hand on his scaled cheek. It was the first physical contact Deceit had had in a long time, and the most gentle, compassionate touch he’d ever felt. He let out a shaky breath.

“Deceit.” Patton’s voice was loving yet stern, and Deceit realized that this was why he made for a good father figure. “You are my opposite, and I’ll admit, it makes it harder for me to appreciate you sometimes, but… You _are _important. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, and… And I’m willing to get to know you, and make this right. Because you _are _important to Thomas. There are times when… when he may need to lie… Not all the time, but once in a while; I might not like it, but I might need you there.” He looked into Deceit’s eyes, seeing the tears that had just started to overflow. Patton didn’t know why he hadn’t seen it before. “You know… I see a lot of myself in you. It doesn’t always make me happy, but… maybe that’s just ‘cause I haven’t given you a chance.”

“Dee,” Remus chimed in. Patton let go of Deceit, and the scaled side longed for his touch to return. Patton moved to the side, letting Remus come into view. “I just wanted you to join us; I kept talking about how fun it was over here, to make you want to come over some more. Not the opposite. All of those thoughts you’ve been having? That’s not us, that’s just you. … You’ve been lying to _yourself_.”

Deceit rubbed at his eyes, feeling his breaths hitch. _No, not now._ He couldn’t break down in front of them... But he couldn’t exactly start smiling and convince them all was fine. He’d run himself into a dead end, where all he could do now was be _honest_. And it hurt. Honesty always hurt.

_If I left tomorrow would anybody care_

_Stuck in this sorrow_

_Going nowhere_

Deceit trembled, and without intending to, he started spilling more of the truth. “Without Virgil… everything became dark, and cold… Lonely… Life was harsher than ever before. I lost all motivation; I became weak and tired. I didn’t know how much more I could take; Remus was my sole motivation. And then Remus left, and… everything became impossible to deal with… Existing any longer, in this state that I’m in, might hurt Thomas… It might be better for me to go now… Virgil fulfills my role well enough, and no one would genuinely care if I left, it’d be better for ev-”

Virgil’s body came in at the speed of a bullet, barreling into him with arms spread out, latching around him once he hit. It’d been years since Virgil openly, willingly hugged him -- Deceit almost forgot how it felt. He dug his face into Virgil’s shoulder, trying to disguise his sobs.

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

“You matter to me,” Virgil admitted. “You always did.”

Before he knew it, Remus was there, too, his arms wrapped around him tightly. “Group hug!” He exclaimed. “Last one in wakes up with a pushpin in their ear!”

Deceit couldn’t see who was who, his face still pressed against the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie, but he felt three other bodies pounding into them from different sides. Suddenly, he felt warm, warmer than he’d been in months. It was everything he’d always wanted -- Virgil, Remus, warmth, comfort, belonging… And when he heard Thomas’s happy laugh in the background, he couldn’t help but smile.

And it wasn’t even a lie.


	3. Logan Sanders

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_

_If my time was up I'd wanna know_

_You were happy I was there_

“I don’t understand this,” Logan sighed, desperate to be heard. “What is the worth of memories if they don’t spur you on to make new ones?” He tried to appeal to Thomas. “I… I am… familiar with this… whole ordeal’s origin, but it is in the past now, Thomas! It makes no sense to—”

“Logan, just—” Thomas raised a hand, trying to shut him up. His face tightened in annoyance, and Logan’s stomach dropped. “It’s… fine. It’s fine.”

“But if you would only heed—”

“Oh hush, sub-astute teacher!” Roman sneered, looking through the old photos with a smirk.

Logan tried so hard, but his words couldn’t reach them. He wanted to scream, but where was the logic in that? Frustration began to boil, and he let out the accusation he’d been holding back. “All of this because Patton can’t let go of one person?”

“Logan, can you stop?” Patton stared at him with hurt outlining his features, and a critical look in his eyes. Logan paused as a wave of guilt rushed over him. The look on Morality’s face made him feel like a monster; an irrational desire to claw open his skin swept over Thomas’s Logic. He opened his mouth hesitantly, but then Patton said the magic word, and all his determination was sapped out of him. “Please?”

Something broke deep down inside of him. “You know what? Fine. If you don’t want to listen to me, this is _your _issue to resolve. I am Outtie, 50,000.” He sunk down, but not before catching Roman’s confused correction.  
“Five… thousand?”

Logan rose up briefly to correct himself in a mocking voice, before sinking down to his room. He felt a part of him trying to pull him back up, to return to Thomas who he knew deep down still needed him, but he refused to go back now. Soon they would learn that they needed him; they had to. He told himself that over and over once his feet touched the floor and the volume dropped to zero, as loneliness struck deep in his unfortunately-existent heart.

This happened long ago, but whenever Logan felt unheard or unappreciated by the other sides later on, this was the moment he thought of — the time he sunk out, and no one cared enough to come after him. Virgil did it, and everyone went running, but when he did it? No. No one cared about Logic, so it was up to him to care for himself.

Flash forward a couple years, and that strategy wasn’t going so well.

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anyone lose sleep_

_If I wasn't hard and hollow_

_Then maybe you would miss me_

“Microsoft nerd.” “Calculator watch.” “Book germ.” “Mr. Gloomy Gus Teacher.”

Logan wasn’t an emotional side. He was the opposite. Nevertheless, he couldn’t avoid emotions entirely, no matter how hard he may try.

When the others pushed him away, it was only logical to become defensive.

When the others ignored his warnings, it was only logical to raise his voice and temper.

And when the others cast him out and left him alone, it was only logical to harbor a grudge.

But sometimes, the nicknames got to him in a way they shouldn’t. Most of them made some sort of clever sense, so there was no reason to be upset by them. Still, he’d find himself sitting at his desk late into the night, mumbling those… insulting phrases to himself, as if saying them out loud would remove the feelings of hatred they put into his head. Hatred towards Roman, towards Virgil, towards Patton the most — and sometimes even towards Thomas. But most of all, it was directed towards himself, for being all of these things and worse. A cold, calculating machine.

Sometimes he wished he was different. He wished he didn’t embody cold hard logic, just so he could feel the love and acceptance the others shared. But they avoided him most of the time, and the reasoning that made the most sense was, they didn’t see him as a person.

He wasn’t one of them, and as proven several times over, his absence was more welcoming than his presence. They wouldn’t miss him if he just never showed up. But he had to, for Thomas. Whether it annoyed them or not. And they made sure he knew it did.

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_

“Well, Logan, why don’t you try and see where I’m coming from?” Patton asked with those gentle, innocent eyes of his. ‘_I do see where you’re coming from, and I still disagree,’_ Logan thought bitterly.

“Why does Domo Arigatou Mr. Roboto always have a stick up his butt?” Roman glared in his direction, then continued building up his point without giving Logan a chance to respond. _‘Just because I’m different from you doesn’t mean my opinion doesn’t matter.’_

“You’re expressing an unhealthy amount of anxiety,” Logan calmly told a stressed-out Virgil, reaching out to support him. The other side was pulling his hair out, his eyes red and angry.

“Just go on and say it, _**Logic** _— you just don’t like me, do you? You don’t care about anyone!”

_‘That’s not true… And why do you say my name like that… Like it’s a bad thing?’_

“Well, Thomas has more to lose if he misses the wedding.”

“What? How?” Deceit looked confused. But as Logan spoke, Deceit merely rolled his eyes and continued asking carefully structured questions, until finally he asked, “But what are _your _thoughts on the matter?”

Logan felt a little nervous as he put forth his honest opinion. “Well, Thomas has several friends and they all tend to distract him from his responsibilities, so… perhaps two less isn’t so bad.”

A few minutes of discussion longer, and Logan found his side had switched — now he was agreeing with Deceit. It made him feel uncomfortable, especially whenever he looked over to Patton and saw the frustration in his eyes that he tried to hide behind his smile.

_‘I can’t make everyone happy. That’s not my job. Can’t you just accept that?’_

Remus grinned. “I’m unpredictable like that. I bet that really gets to you, huh, Logan? There is no rhyme or reason to what I do. I just do! And what I do is wreak havoc!”

_‘That doesn’t matter… We all should work together for the sake of Thomas, regardless of whether or not I can stand you. All _you _have to do is try to get along.’_

But they _didn’t _get along, not to a satisfactory degree. They called each other names and struggled to push their ideas forward in Thomas’s head. Logically, Logan knew they all needed to set aside their differences, and they did so when it mattered most. That should have been enough; he couldn’t comprehend why it bothered him so much that they didn’t get along better. They pointed out what they perceived as flaws in him, and poked fun at him for not being as emotional as they were. It was like an old joke that grew more and more irritating as time went on.

_‘I know I’m different from you all. Isn’t that a good thing?’_

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

Logan tried; he really did. He learned pop culture facts and references and created flashcards to better understand informal language and memes. He tried to see everyone’s side to every argument, but somehow he still ended up laughed at and left out.

He returned to his room most days in frustration, upset with himself and the others around him — but he refused to acknowledge the sadness seeping into his soul, because frustration was far more logical than sadness.

Those times when the others pushed him away, he genuinely considered leaving. But it was never best for Thomas. Thomas came first, and even if the others didn’t need him, Thomas needed Logic. That was a cold, hard fact, and he never once doubted it, even if the others did.

_If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_

_Still stuck inside this sorrow_

_I got nothin' and going nowhere_

“These thoughts are illogical,” he told himself. “Unnecessary. Unimportant. Unrelated.” His mind went, ‘_intrusive,_’ and he wondered if maybe Remus was behind all this, but quickly pushed the thought aside. There was no reason for Remus to — well, then again, Remus didn’t tend to have a reason for anything he did.

No; pushing the blame off on Remus would not help him focus. Logan tried to ignore these thoughts and move on, but found it increasingly difficult. He knew it was the same advice he’d given Thomas, and being unable to do it himself made him a hypocrite.

He made errors in judgement more than often over the next couple of days, and it didn’t go unnoticed. The others were annoyed when the outcome negatively affected Thomas, like when Logan forgot it was important to keep Thomas alert, or why, and urged him to fall asleep while there were brownies in the oven. Had Joan not come by for a visit that day… things might have gone so, _so _wrong. Logan bit his lip at the memory, remembering how at first the other sides turned on him, before Patton defended him and made them realize they were all to blame. Logan had cowered at their harsh tones, knowing they were right, that they sounded just like the words in his head, like the build-up of guilt and self-loathing pushing against his chest, trying to burst out from inside.

Thomas needed him to be functional, but he was slowly losing himself to his insecurities.

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_

Often, he spent his mid-afternoon sitting at the kitchen table, filling out some paperwork or doing some reading on a topic he found interesting. He would hear the others in the living room, laughing and playing board games or card games or watching movies on the tv. Hearing them, so close yet so separated from him, made a knot in his chest that he couldn’t untie. Logan realized one day just why — he realized he _wanted _to be a part of their family, to feel like he belonged, but he _didn’t_. He never could. Their laughter was just another reminder of that unforgettable fact.

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

Logan struggled with insomnia every now and again, like all of the sides at times, usually whenever Thomas overworked them. He decided to try and read, but he simply could not focus for the life of him. He tried to pull himself together, but his brain just wanted to be anywhere else, to think of the insignificance of his actions that day, to blame himself for not exceeding expectations. Logan sighed bitterly and closed his book, focusing on his mistakes and listening to his insecurities replaying in his mind.

Patton invited him to a movie night a few times, and to help with baking cookies once or twice, but Logan always refused. They were chances to redeem himself in their eyes, sure, but it was more likely he would leave those events feeling worse than when they’d started. He figured there was no point, so he returned to his room and berated himself every time he heard the others having fun without him.

One night, his frustration overwhelmed him. It was the first night he had driven himself to tears, and he knew he had to get out of his room and go for a walk. He headed out into the hall and tried to calm himself down by listening to the sounds of life echoing through the house. He sought them out, not intending to engage in much social interaction, but that became inevitable when he stepped into the kitchen and three sets of eyes locked onto him. The smell of freshly-baked cookies filled his nostrils, and a comforting warmth temporarily filled the ache in his heart. Deceit had just put the last batch in, and was now eyeing him with a quiet curiosity. Virgil was standing next to the humming microwave, where a bag of popcorn was popping inside, and Patton was organizing the baked cookies onto plates. The two glanced up at his entrance with a deep concern in their wide eyes; they’d seen his tears, which went against the general consensus that Logan did not cry — in fact, Logan did not _feel_. That’s what they thought.

“Logan!” Patton cried, hurrying over and latching onto his hands, rubbing circles on his palms. The logical side tensed, unused to such physical contact.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked, all-business. Logan hadn’t seen him move, but now he was at his side, his anxiety seeming to pulse outward. Logan couldn’t bring himself to look at him, nor at Patton’s two orbs of overwhelming emotions. Instead, he raised his head to look at Deceit, who was standing further back than the others, but still a few steps closer than he had been. Deceit stared softly back at him with him a careful nod, encouraging him to speak up. Logan let out a shaky breath and found his voice.

_I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_

_Someone that I'd like better_

_Can you help me forget, don't wanna feel like this forever_

“I have… had a lot on my mind lately,” Logan admitted. “It wouldn’t be logical to burden you with my… _thoughts_.”

“Your _feelings_,” Patton corrected, carefully wiping away one of Logan’s tears. He placed one hand on top of Logan’s arm, and the other just underneath, gently guiding him toward the living room. “You sit right in here, while we finish up in the kitchen. Then, if you’re up for it, we can talk it through. Okay?”

Logan hesitated before giving him a slight nod. They stepped into the room. Roman and Remus were sitting on the floor near the tv, each holding a notepad and a pen, brainstorming creative ideas and arguing constantly over which idea was better.

“No no no, we are _**NOT** _turning the imagination into a zombie apocalypse for the day.”

“Aww, but think of the possibilities, Roman! Haven’t you ever wondered whether two zombies having a go at each other would make a little zombie baby?”

Patton gave Logan a small smile and nudged him toward the couch. Logan sat down on the left side of the couch and listened to the two creative sides, while Patton vanished into the kitchen.

“No, I have NOT! And I would not appreciate thoughts like those, so if you would kindly shut up, _thank _you.”  
“Hmmmmmm, how about NO. And then you can see if mosquitos are affected too, and if they switch from drinking blood to eating brains, and you can test it on yourself to see if a mosquito bite turns you into a monster, and you can see if one of _US _can be killed by the imagination, or even killed at all, really. What if we all were zombies — would Thomas become one, too? Could he infect his friends, or would he just go crazy and get put into a mental asylum? You can’t say you aren’t interested, Roman!”  
“Enough! We’ll turn the imagination into the ocean for a day. We’ll turn all the inhabitants into merpeople with gills and have a beautiful rendition of ‘Under The Sea!’” Roman’s eyes lit up with a hundred creative ideas, and his hand traveled across the notepad furiously in an attempt to mark them all down before they were forgotten. His brother’s hand moved just as fast, though it was pretty clear his eyes were lit up for a different reason.

“Ooh, ooh, we could make a thirty foot tall octopus — with a _lust _for _mermen_—” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “—and have him attack the palace.”

Roman sighed permissively. “Fine. Fine, you— you can add an octopus.” Remus grinned, chuckling maniacally as he began to sketch his creature. Roman glanced up once or twice, unable to stop a small smile from creeping onto his face toward his other half, who was oblivious in his stroke of demented passion.

Logan felt admittedly out of place in this familial space, like an outsider looking in. He thought about getting up and leaving, but then Deceit strolled in with his full attention on Logan. “May I sit here?” He asked, gesturing toward the spot Logan had taken at the arm of the chair. Logan began to stand, but Deceit shook his head, a gentle reassurance in his normal eye. “No, no, I simply meant on this side of you. Patton will want to sit on your other side.”

Logan hesitantly nodded, shuffling closer to the middle of the couch so that Deceit could steal his spot. He’d sat there on the end to avoid being the center of attention, but when he thought about it, it only made sense. Patton would want to get to the root of his feelings, and that meant he was going to finally get the attention he wanted, albeit not in the way or subject he preferred.

Deceit gave him a gentle, knowing smile, and then turned his attention to the bickering twins.

_What if I just pulled myself together_

_Would it matter at all_

_What if I just tried not to remember_

_Would it matter at all_

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

Logan’s mind began to wander back to his heavy thoughts. Even with Roman and Remus’s increasingly chaotic noise, his thoughts were able to block out his surroundings. _‘They don’t appreciate you. This won’t change that. They don’t want you here. You should leave.’_

Deceit frowned, noticing how distant Logan’s eyes were. They reminded him of Remus sometimes when his thoughts were too much — the man was either chaos personified, like how he was when he presented himself to others, or nearly catatonic, though he would always hide away in his room or on the dark side before his condition could get that bad. Such a look did not suit one as stable as Logan, and Deceit spoke up before the man could lose himself in his mind.

“So, did you _hate _that book you borrowed from me last week?”

Logan snapped back to reality and looked to Deceit with a dissipating nervousness. “O-Oh, that… You see, I haven’t gotten around to finishing it quite yet. I did read a couple of the chapters, and I’m enjoying it thus far, but… I’ve been… very busy.”

‘Oh, yes, I’m _sure_,’ Deceit thought. “Then, I assume you _haven’t _read up to the death of Socrates?”

He pulled Logan into a conversation, distracting him from his thoughts. Deceit was careful not to discuss anything involving the other sides, because he wasn’t sure if Logan’s strange behavior was a result of an outside influence. They debated over the book’s depictions of historical figures until Virgil and Patton finally reentered the room, with Patton balancing three plates of chocolate chip cookies and Virgil somehow managing to hold all six drinks. They placed them on the coffee table after pushing the table up closer to the couch, while Roman and Remus ran into the kitchen to retrieve the popcorn. Patton pounced onto the couch and curled up against Logan, giving the other side his full attention. Logan could practically hear his heart thumping as Patton stole Logan’s arm and pressed his cheek into the other’s shoulder.

“What’s up, Logi-bear?” His voice was gentle and full of compassion, making Logan feel guilty for what he had planned on saying. Virgil squeezed onto the couch beside Patton, his knees pulled into his chest and his eyes skeptically looking Logan over. Roman and Remus came running back in with the popcorn, tossing two bags of popcorn onto the couch and dropping one on the floor between them after plopping down on the carpet. Roman reached for the remote, but Patton cleared his throat and his hand stilled in the air. Suddenly they were all aware of the tension in the room, and Patton nodded in approval before prompting Logan once again to speak.

_If I left tomorrow would anybody care_

_Stuck in this sorrow_

_Going nowhere_

“Erm… Well… I have been… quite bothered lately by some rather intrusive thoughts.” All eyes flew to Remus, who was looking back at Logan with an unnaturally serious expression. It was as if he were thinking, _‘Blame me, I dare you.’_ “N-No, that’s not what I’m implying.” Logan backtracked. “This is an issue with me alone — forgive me.”

“Logan.” Patton reached out and caressed Logan’s cheek, making him shiver. “If something is wrong, it’s a family problem. We’re a family.”

Logan hesitated. “... Am **_I_**?”  
The room was quiet for a moment, as the wheels turned in Patton’s head. He looked taken aback, eyes wide. “... What do you mean, kiddo?”

“... Am I really a part of your… _FAM-ILY_?” He gained a little bit of confidence and began to speak up. “I… have noticed that my voice is not appreciated in most conversations, nor is my presence. Although I will admit it irritates me greatly because our resolutions affect Thomas, it has begun to make me feel… well, less than human. As a result, I’ve been thinking… very illogically as of late. I have not been able to focus, or sleep, because I feel unwanted here… and with the mistakes I’ve made, I’ve started wondering whether I’m simply a faulty Logic, and Thomas may need a new one.”

Patton listened patiently. Logan took a deep breath, and said, “I’m sorry. Forgive me. It is illogical for me to—”  
“Logan.” Patton’s expression was a fatherly mix of sternness and affection. “The only thing that’s illogical is _hiding _your feelings, not _feeling _them.”

Logan frowned. “I am Thomas’s Logic. I should not be incapacitated by my own… discomfort.”

“No. You shouldn’t,” Deceit agreed, placing a hand on the other’s knee, making Logan look over at him. “But that’s not your fault. It’s ours for allowing you to feel that way.”

“And I will never, ever allow it to happen again,” Virgil promised, his dark eyes protective. “I’m serious. I’m up past 2 in the morning most nights anyway, just speak up and I’ll be there for you.”

“Indeed, as the dark and stormy knight has spoken.” Virgil sent Roman a nasty glare, but Roman ignored it, looking sadly into the logic side’s eyes. “Logan… I did not notice the impact my words were having on you. You are as human as the rest of us, and I… I will never intentionally make a calculator or mechanical joke again! Feel free to let me know whenever my words have struck a chord that you find out of tune.”

Roman looked to his brother, who shrugged. “I say what comes to mind and what comes to mind I say. Nothing personal. Nothing’s gonna change me and what I do.”

Logan shook his head. “I don’t intend to make you change. I simply… don’t wish to be cast out anymore.” His voice seemed to shake along with his head, even though he tried to keep his tone as flat as possible.

“We do not cast others out,” Deceit whispered. “Not anymore.”

“Not anymore,” Virgil agreed, fiddling with his hands anxiously.

“Not anymore!” Roman and Remus cried, in their bold and silly tones, respectively.

“Not anymore,” Patton confirmed, eyes full of determination. “We will never, never purposefully make anyone feel unwanted again. And if someone does, you tell me. And if it’s me… then help me remember today. Because I care too much about each and every one of you to allow you to break down in private when we can come together as a family. Okay?”

Logan nodded skeptically. Words were words, and it was only too likely that in the near future, the others, including Patton, would be too carried away by their _feelings _to worry about his. But he would give them another chance, because it was all he could do. For Thomas.

_All the chances that have passed me by_

_Would it matter if I gave it one more try_

_Would it matter at all_

Patton engulfed Logan in a hug, which he accepted with rose-tinted cheeks. Remus stuck out his tongue and shouted impatiently, “Can we watch the movie now?” Upon further examination, Logan noticed the other side had been rolling around on the floor for the last thirty seconds, his limbs tangled in awkward positions, his face screaming boredom. Patton sent him a withering scowl, but Logan nodded. The creative sides lit up and fumbled for the remote, which Roman ended up with, pressing the play button with a victorious grin. Remus tackled him then and started a tickle war — which was all fine and dandy until Virgil saw the crazed look in his eyes, and realized Remus was trying to see if he could make his brother pass out from lack of oxygen.

When everything became settled down again and the brothers were separated — Roman on the floor in front of Virgil, and Remus on the floor in front of Deceit — Logan took notice of the way Patton still clung to his arm, and felt the heat of their bodies pushed together. He stared down at Thomas’s sense of morality, watching the small outlying curl of the other’s hair dance against his sleeve. He felt the peculiar urge to pull him close and play with his brown locks. In a state of fascination, Logan watched the other while his eyes were glued to the tv screen.

But then, without warning, Patton turned and looked up at Logan, catching him in the act. Logan was suddenly very aware of all his sensations, of the heat in his cheeks, of every little spot they made contact, of the shudder that pricked his skin. Patton smiled warmly at him. “I… _**We** _love you, Logan. You know that, right?”

Virgil and Deceit turned away from the movie to look at him, eyes full of concern. Logan watched as Remus tried to shove as many pieces of popcorn into his mouth as physically possible, while Roman mouthed all of the quotes in the movie, enraptured eyes catching every detail. The cold, lonely feeling inside of him hadn’t vanquished, but it was now manageable, mostly replaced by a warm contentment and trust in this family around him. Maybe he could be a part of them. Maybe, without realizing it, he already _was._


	4. Patton Sanders

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _If my time was up I'd wanna know_ **

** _You were happy I was there_ **

Patton smiled outwardly, even though inward was nothing but an aching loneliness. He stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room with the bowl of mashed potatoes in his hands, stirring it as he silently watched the Smash tournament being played on the Switch Roman had conjured up. Roman was playing as the Hero from Dragon Quest, Remus was playing as the Piranha Plant from Mario, Virgil played as Ridley from Metroid, and Deceit played as Joker from Persona 5. Virgil and Deceit were clearly very defensive players, whereas the Creativity twins were less cautious with their attacks. Roman was a boastful player, making a lot of excited noise whenever he performed a string of attacks. This only made Virgil’s success feel more rewarding to the anxious side when he managed to trick Roman into falling off the side of the map twice, and pushed him off the third time. Roman was rather annoyed, but Remus managed to avenge him (quite enthusiastically) and knocked Virgil into the abyss, leaving the final fight down between a spontaneous Remus with two lives and a calculating Deceit with three. The two defeated sides placed their bets and cheered on the two remaining. Patton sighed as he watched them from afar, the loneliness seeming to eat away inside him.

Logan was sitting on a lounge chair in the room, a recent addition that he made plenty use of. He was reading a thick book while the others played their games, but something caused him to suddenly look up and glance at the doorway, where Patton stood. The moral side flinched, then sent his logical comrade a warm smile before turning and heading back into the kitchen to cook.

Logan found himself spending those next few minutes pondering whether the look in Patton’s eyes before he left was merely thoughtfulness or boredom, or if it was something more.

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anyone lose sleep_ **

** _If I _ ** **was more** ** _ hard, _ ** **less ** ** _hollow_ **

** _Then maybe you would miss me_ **

Patton felt his purpose among the other sides was to be there for them in their times of need. As an individual, he wasn’t necessary. He often felt he wasn’t…  _ there _ . Sure, the others listened to him at times, and he did his best to keep them all together, but that just made him feel like the  _ glue  _ of their family, not a living  _ member _ . He was the dad, and they were like his children — his to protect, to take responsibility for, but not the other way around. There was a small degree of separation, and none of the others would understand it if he tried to put it into words… It was just a feeling he had, and feelings, unfortunately, were hard to explain.

What he did know, however, was that the others had every right to be upset with him. It was his fault for separating Deceit and Remus from the rest of the family, because he believed they weren’t good for Thomas. He genuinely  _ believed  _ they weren’t needed, and that they didn’t have Thomas’s best interests at heart. Looking back on his past actions, Patton was ashamed that he’d been so harsh on the two. (On the  _ three  _ — Virgil had been one of them. Just another reminder of the mistakes piling on and on...)

_ ‘I should have treated the dark si— no, there are no dark sides… I should have treated the Duke and Deceit better… and Logan. I made so many mistakes with all of them… They’re my responsibility… and I failed them.’ _ Patton curled up in a ball on his bed as he thought on what he’d done wrong, how he could have made things better without Virgil ducking out, without Remus hurting himself, without Deceit being pushed to the breaking point, without making Logan cry. They deserved to hate him. They deserved to want him gone — to want  _ him  _ left in the subconscious.

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_ **

Patton’s dad jokes weren’t very well appreciated. He thought they were really clever, but one look at Logan told him he was just getting on peoples’ nerves. He couldn’t help it, but any time he saw their disapproving faces, a part of him whispered,  _ ‘You’re not amusing them; you’re only making them wish for you to go away.’ _

But he ignored those thoughts, and kept moving forward, because that’s what he did best. With a smile on his face, Patton inspired them onward, using his outward appearance as an example. If he pretended it didn’t hurt sometimes, they would never have to feel the guilt he braved everyday.

***

Patton was the main cook of the family as well, and he always made breakfast and dinner, regardless of whether or not anyone came. Most days, at least half of the family would show up, but there were occasions when he’d cook a full meal and the only one sitting at the dining room table was him. He pretended not to be disappointed. He pretended he didn’t care when, after spending hours preparing a single dish, one of the others entered the room with an upturned nose and whined that they didn’t feel like eating what he worked so hard to make.

He tried to ignore those feelings, but it was much harder.

***

One day, Patton had made blueberry muffins in the kitchen and Virgil happened to come by and take one. Patton could almost see the dark mood surrounding his dark strange son — darker and more hateful than usual — and naturally he tried to perk the other up a little. He made some dad jokes and talked gayly (pun intended), but all he seemed to do was worsen the situation. Virgil snapped at him then, saying in his warped Anxiety voice,  **“You’re annoying the hell out of me. Why won’t you just leave people alone when they clearly don’t want you around.”**

Patton fell silent as Virgil walked away, his eyes glazing over as they traced the other’s exit from the kitchen. Seconds turned into minutes of him just standing there, listening to the silence of the household, wishing his dark strange son would come back in and tell him he didn’t mean it, that it was just the rush of frustration Patton wanted to believe it was. He knew Virgil didn’t mean to hurt him, but… What if he was right: Patton was just annoying the others; they didn’t want him?

The numbness spread, and Patton let it.

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

In his room, Patton was often flooded with nostalgia for all of the memories and treasures of Thomas’s childhood. He was also cursed with various emotions — a rainbow, which just  _ had  _ to include overwhelming sadness. Often Patton would hide in his room, drowning in memories, both the good and the bad. He cried so many tears over the course of a month, he could fill bathtubs. But he also spent his time practicing the art of pulling himself together for the others, a talent he used when leaving his room to make meals for dinner. Some days, Patton would simply make the meal, eat a small portion without speaking much to the others (trying to give them more peace and quiet, without bothering them 24/7), and then leave without causing a scene.

Roman and Remus were far too self-centered to ever notice, and Virgil was often too moody or anxious to notice what was truly going on with the others at the table. Deceit and Logan were the only ones who began to notice.

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _Still stuck inside this sorrow_ **

** _I got nothin' and going nowhere_ **

Patton sat on the carpet in his room, feeling the waves of his own sadness roll over him, as if he were a shell on the beach sands, caught in the tide.

Patton represented both morality and feelings. Thomas’s emotions were felt strongest by him; the others felt far less. And, as Thomas pointed out himself long ago, Patton felt all of Thomas’s emotions, the good and the bad. He felt the extremes of happiness and depression so often, but Patton was always a “black and white” kind of guy. (Being the moral side as Thomas went through childhood, he sort of had to be.) He locked away what he thought wasn’t right, whether it be sides of Thomas’s personality that he didn’t want hurting his host, or his own negative feelings. He put on a happy mask so the others wouldn’t know.

The other sides didn’t need to know. He was just fine. He’d worry about them, and that was all the worry that needed to be going around.

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_ **

“I can pretend,” Patton murmured to himself, practicing his smile in the mirror. He didn’t think their group had room for any more sadness, so he decided to take it all on his own. He thought of  _ Inside Out _ , and the mother’s words to Riley:  _ “Your dad's under a lot of pressure, but if you and I can keep smiling, it would be a big help. We can do that for him. Right?” _

Patton looked into the mirror at his eyes, trying to force some light into them. “Our family’s under a lot of pressure, but if I can keep smiling, I can help them. I can do it.” He watched as his mirror image perfected the art of false happiness, and then took a deep breath before heading out.

_ ‘One more day,’ _ he thought to himself. It was his motivation. He knew it would be much, much longer before he opened up to them, but this lie helped him get through it all.  _ ‘One more day.’ _

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

Logan was the first of the “light sides” to come to suspect Patton had a greater range of emotions than he was willing to show. He figured it out on his own; it was only logical that Patton would hide away any negative emotions, because he cared so much about others that he rarely ever agreed to put himself first. It showed in their debates over Thomas; Patton would always tell him to do what was best for others, even if it meant personal sacrifices. Patton clearly figured it was the moral thing to do. While Logan agreed to some extent, he also knew that things weren’t always so black and white. No matter how hard he tried to be the white, it wouldn’t remove the black that was hidden within every hurting soul.

Deceit, on the other hand, had always known about Patton’s inner demons. From the very first time he laid eyes on the other side and heard him speak, he knew there was more going on deep inside that the sense of morality tried to disguise. Deceit could practically smell lies. It was as if they were spoken with a different accent, emphasized in comparison to the rest of one’s words. He could always catch a lie in the making, as long as he was paying attention… and though Patton didn’t necessarily speak in lies that often — it almost seemed to pain him to do so — his entire persona was a lie.

Even  _ disregarding  _ the lying factor, Deceit could read Patton far more easily than anyone else. Sure, Patton was his opposite, but they were far more similar than some were willing to admit. They were both quite parental towards the other sides, and both very manipulative in order to get what they wanted (albeit one was more  _ honest  _ about it than the other). And they all  ** _acted_ ** .

Logan and Deceit both knew something was up, but they decided to stay out of Patton’s business until they were wanted, or needed. But they both made sure to check up on the other side occasionally, because they both knew how difficult it could get, being left alone with no support.

_ ‘Never again.’ _

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _Can you help me forget, don't wanna feel like this forever_ **

One day, Deceit decided to check up on Patton after finding out the moral side had locked himself in his room for several hours. It wasn’t necessarily a bad sign — after all, they all needed some alone time. But Deceit was concerned nonetheless, and as no one had checked up on Patton in some time, he took it upon himself to find out.

Patton was sobbing at the foot of his bed when three knocks on his door scared him into silence. He wiped at his eyes with his left hand, holding his right over his mouth to quiet his sobs. He hoped that the person at his door would just leave, but the knocking returned after ten seconds of silence. Patton sighed and jumped to his feet — a delay would only worry his guest. He hurried to the door and forced a bright smile before opening it just as his guest began to knock again.

Deceit’s eyes narrowed as Patton appeared in the doorway, wearing a clearly masked grin. He wished he could have been surprised. “Well, well, Patton. I see you are doing  _ well  _ today.”

“Yep!” Patton exclaimed. Whether or not he understood Deceit’s true meaning, and was just pretending otherwise, Deceit didn’t know. What he did know was, he just caught Patton in a lie.

“You  _ need  _ to keep up this facade, Morality. I  _ don’t  _ know.”

“What are you talking about, Deceit?” Patton’s grin settled into a smile.

“I’m here for you, as you  _ weren’t  _ for me.” Deceit’s eyes softened as Patton’s lip began to tremble, the moral side looking downwards with clenched teeth, a final attempt to hide it all. Deceit came forward and placed a gentle hand on the other’s shoulder. “I know,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

The dam broke and Patton’s tears began to flow. He threw his arms over Deceit’s shoulders without hesitation and began crying into his chest, staining the snakelike side’s shirt with tears. At first, Deceit was shocked by how quickly Patton caved in, but then he realized he shouldn’t be surprised. He had no idea how long Patton had been doing this to himself.

He patted Patton’s back, murmuring, “You shouldn’t keep so much inside.”

Patton shook. “B-But I… I need to be strong… for them… all of them…”

“No,” Deceit argued defiantly. “You don’t. You  _ should  _ set this example for Virgil and Roman and the others. You  _ would  _ want them suffering like this without your knowledge, would you?”

Patton shook his head, his heart jumping into his throat at the thought of Virgil all alone in the darkness of his room, curled up in a ball for hours on end, thinking some of the things that  _ he  _ thought. Deceit knew he was getting somewhere, and sighed in relief, letting his hand run through Patton’s hair soothingly. Patton’s hitched breaths were becoming steadier, little by little, as his tears began to slow.

“Look at Logan,” Deceit pointed out. “Even he knew it  _ wasn’t  _ important to talk through it all with the group. If it helped him, and it wasn’t a bother to us, why shouldn’t you do the same?”

Patton didn’t respond. He knew Deceit was right, but…

“Logic was never my thing,” Patton admitted sheepishly. Deceit chuckled, pulling away just enough so that Patton could look into his eyes and see the sincerity inside.

“I’ll help you, if you let me.”

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

After reassuring Deceit that he’d hold a family meeting within the next couple of days, Patton went back to his daily routine. He did some laundry and began washing the dishes after dinner, thinking all the while about… well, about himself. Why did he think of himself in a whole different way than he thought about the others? Why did he give himself such overwhelming expectations, when he would never, ever dream of letting the others do the same? Why did it feel wrong to ask for support, when that was all he wanted the others to do? He was a hypocrite. He always had been — Deceit had been calling him out on it  _ long  _ before they were on good terms. Only now did he really understand that he was wrong. It hurt to be wrong.

Who did he want to be? What did he have to change? Well… he wanted to be a good role model. He wanted to be someone the others could look up to and rely on. Did that mean he couldn’t be vulnerable? Did that mean he had to be perfect? No, of course not.

_ ‘... Then why have you been pretending to be?’ _

Patton bit his lip. He didn’t know.

_ ‘Okay. So… how do you change?’ _

Patton sighed. Deceit was, as strange as it still sounded,  _ right _ . Patton knew he had two options: he could either brush off what Deceit said as a lie, or he could listen to him and open up to the others. Every instinct of his told him to keep the mask, to pretend his encounter with Deceit didn’t exist — but Patton had promised not to invalidate the other sides anymore. He couldn’t just continue brushing off Deceit because it hurt his pride.

Patton sighed, and proceeded to hide the mask.

** _If I left tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _Stuck in this sorrow_ **

** _Going nowhere_ **

Patton decided to go to Logan first, not only because Logan was most likely to understand where he was coming from and why this was so challenging, but also because… well… Patton really liked Logan. Not that he didn’t like the others, but… He  _ liked  _ Logan. He wanted Logan to know first, as he would when revealing any deep-harbored secret to the group. (He didn’t  _ try  _ to keep many of those, mind you. Not consciously.) Logan would know if he was doing the right thing.

Patton knocked on his door, and was pleasantly surprised when Logan answered right away; sometimes Logan was busy doing work, but it almost seemed like he’d been  _ waiting  _ to be interrupted. He looked down at Patton in curiosity, his one hand resting on the doorframe while his other adjusted his glasses carefully. “Greetings, Patton. How can I help you?”

Patton twiddled with his thumbs, unable to meet Logan’s eyes. “U-um… well… Can I come in?”

His hesitation spoke volumes, and Logan immediately moved out of the way and gestured for Patton to enter. He shut the door behind him, and the two sat down on the edge of Logan’s bed. Patton’s mind felt more at ease, more focused, in Logan’s room. It was a calming atmosphere, where his emotions became subdued and logic ruled. At once, he felt convinced that coming here was the logical, correct thing to do, and his shoulders fell, relaxed.

“Patton?” Logan’s voice drew him back to reality; his eyes and voice were now deeply concerned. “Is everything all right?”

Patton smiled; it was his natural response. But then he let it fade, and answered honestly. “No. No, I don’t think it is.” He paused. “You know… how I’m at the heart of Thomas’s feelings?” Logan nodded; he had a feeling he knew where this was going. “... Well… It’s not always positive… In fact, most of the time, I don’t feel nearly as happy as I try to look… And, well… Deceit thinks I should talk to the others about it. But I wanted to know your honest opinion first.” Patton looked up nervously, his anxious eyes meeting Logan’s steady eyes.

“As Thomas’s Logic, I believe I should first answer in a manner according to my title.” Logan paused. “If you do go to the others with this, it will forever change the way they look at you, and perhaps even the way they treat you. They will love you nonetheless, and it will not be a drastic change, but you will feel them start to rely on you less and worry for you more. You will be as happy with your choice as you will be dissatisfied. It will be irreversible.”

Patton looked down at his feet, biting the inside of his cheek. Logan inched a little closer, frowning. “However… I will now answer as a member of your family.” Patton held back a grin; he couldn’t help but feel proud at how far Logan had come, from denying emotions altogether, to longing for a spot in the family, to truly feeling like a loved member. It was enough to move him to tears. “It does…  _ hurt  _ me, to see you upset.” Patton sighed; that was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He didn’t want his family to feel bad over him. “... But it hurts worse to know you feel this way and are not being relieved from it by your own family.” Patton felt a hand on his forearm and looked up again, shocked that Logan had initiated the contact. Logan’s face was pink as he, too, glanced at his hand, before locking his gaze with Patton’s. Patton could only see guilt, protectiveness, and compassion inside. His heart lurched. “I extend the same offer to you as to the others; feel free to come to me in your time of need.  _ Please _ , do not take on your pain all alone. You were the one who told me, ‘The only thing that’s illogical is hiding your feelings, not feeling them.’ This applies to all of us, including you. We come together as a family, don’t we?”

Logan’s other hand reached out for Patton’s, and their fingers interlaced. Patton smiled, genuinely this time. “We do.” Then, without warning, Patton launched himself at Logan and forced him into a hug. Logan didn’t have time to think; his arms subconsciously wrapped around Patton at the exact moment their bodies collided, pulling him in close. Patton nuzzled his head in Logan’s chest, murmuring, “Thank you,” amidst his quiet cries. Logan’s heart broke at the sound of Patton’s sniffles as he tried to keep himself together. Logan just whispered, “We love you, Patton,” and the waterworks made another display.

“I love you, too,” Patton mumbled back, his voice muffled by Logan’s shirt — but Logan still heard him, and the color in his cheeks only deepened. He held Patton tighter and closed his eyes, allowing himself to become Patton’s shoulder to cry on, for this day and all the days to come.

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

Later that day, Patton and Logan left the room and headed for the kitchen. It was late evening; neither of them had started dinner yet, and all the other sides were gathered around the dining room table, looking at the empty stove and unmade table in mortification. Any other day, Logan might have found humor in the childish behavior of the other sides, but not today.

“Logan! Patton! What is going  _ on  _ here?” Roman demanded as soon as the two sides walked into the kitchen. His hands were placed firmly on his hips, a fire in his eyes. “I am  _ starving _ !”

“Roman,” Remus grinned deviously, and everyone knew something disgusting was about to come out of his mouth. “You’re not  _ you  _ when you’re hungry. Why don’t you take a bite of  _ Vir- _ ”

“Enough of that!” Roman covered his brother’s mouth, but then removed his hands with a grossed-out yelp when Remus merely licked his palms in a circle. Virgil ignored this tangent.

“Yeah, what’s the deal, Pop Star?” He asked, less accusatory than Roman, but still suspicious. Deceit trained his eye on Patton, letting him know he had his full attention and support.

Patton’s eyes watered as he looked at his family, unable to bring himself to voice the despair he had been feeling. Thankfully enough, there was no need for many words. All four of them were startled enough by the misery in his expression to know something was up, and everyone understood exactly what to do when Patton yelled, “GROUP HUG!!!”

Four bodies came barrelling into Patton, wrapping their arms around him — or getting as close as they possibly could. Logan watched in amusement, but then Deceit cast him a sideways glance, as if to say,  _ ‘Get in here. You’re part of this family, too, and you’ll suffer group hugs with the rest of us.’ _ Logan rolled his eyes and joined in the group hug. Patton choked out a laugh, somehow able to smile and sob at the same time. The others hadn’t felt the emotional weight and tension up until now, but now that they did, they were all saying words of comfort, words of love.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Roman promised, managing to rub circles on the top of Patton’s head. Virgil was hugging Patton from behind, digging his head into the back of his shoulder, murmuring similar reassurances.

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Tell me who did this,” Remus demanded with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Who hurt the Pat Dad? Huh? I’ll carve off the left side of their face and roast it and feed it to them for breakfast!” Deceit turned his head to give him a glare with his yellow eye. “...  _ Riiiight _ . Maybe not the whole  _ face  _ thing. I’ll peel something else off, though! Just say the word.”

“Patton,” Deceit began, cutting off the creative side. “Your family is there for you whenever you  _ don’t  _ need us. I speak for everyone here when I say, you may come to us before you cry a river.”

“Our snake friend is right,” Roman replied, back to his grandiose voice. “I never say no to hugs.”

“Weeeeeell—” Remus began, but his brother interjected with a glare.   
“To any  _ side’s  _ hugs. I reserve the right to avoid octopus hugs, or black bear hugs, or any other inhuman caressing that is  _ not  _ Patton.”

Patton chuckled. “Aww, thanks, kiddo…”

“I’m here for you, dad,” Virgil mumbled. Patton’s heart swelled, as he thought for the millionth time that he  _ loved  _ his dark son.

“We love you, Patton,” Logan repeated from earlier. Each individual side murmured his agreement, and Patton couldn’t help but laugh and reciprocate.

The hug lasted a long time, as most of the sides forgot about dinner and decided instead to enjoy being together as a family. Patton, Roman, Remus, and Virgil played charades in the living room while Deceit and Logan worked together to make dinner, though they checked up on the others every few minutes. Logan smiled fondly as he observed Patton for a few minutes, sitting there on the couch with Virgil curled up at his one side and Roman leaning into his other, while Remus passionately acted out some crazy-looking scenario. The moral side was surrounded by his beloved sons, and Logan felt relieved knowing that these smiles, at least, were 100% genuine.


	5. Roman Sanders

Roman felt himself standing in the center of the ten-foot tall stage, gazing off into the dark, crowded audience below where the applause was unending. He was breathless from his performance, sweat shining along his brow as pride swelled up in his chest. The warmth of the spotlight simmered over him as he listened to the cheers and whistles of the people below. He felt on top of the world; he felt powerful and loved… … But only if he didn’t look too deeply into the faces below. Only if he discounted the few unmoved expressions and blank stares, and ignored the part of him that wanted to imagine all the possible reasons why.

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _If my time was up I'd wanna know_ **

** _You were happy I was there_ **

Insomnia had never been a problem for Roman.

… Yes, he suffered from it, but he never really complained. He stayed up most nights at an ungodly hour with his creative ideas that sprung to his mind seconds before he could drift away. It was his job, and it was his passion, so there was nothing wrong with it, in his mind. Sometimes he managed Thomas’s dreams — but dreams were a little too complicated to fully control, so he just influenced them when he felt Thomas should really fantasize over something. When he did manage to fall asleep, he kept a dream journal with him at all times, excited to find out what wonderful ideas he might come up with.

Most of the time, he simply ran on a shortened amount of sleep. It didn’t hinder his health; as Thomas’s sides, they were made to function after Thomas went to sleep, so he wasn’t missing out on too much. He didn’t often sleep in past noon — he might take midday naps, but he was  _ always  _ up for breakfast.

One day, he stayed up past seven in the morning and woke up a little past noon. At first, he was too busy writing in his dream journal to bother thinking of reality, but then he remembered Patton’s breakfast and zoomed out of his room. He needed to greet everyone and assure them he was okay; he didn’t want to worry them, and he  _ knew  _ they could worry.

Roman stumbled into the kitchen with an embarrassing lack of grace, almost knocking Patton over and sending the pile of dishes in his hands to the ground. “Patton! I offer my sincerest condolences for my lack of presence this morn. I do hope my absence didn’t concern you.”

Patton smiled, eyes carefully observing the balanced stack in his hands. He didn’t even bother to look at Roman; the creative side blinked in confusion at the lack of attention. “Don’t worry about it! Just make sure you grab something  _ small  _ to eat for lunch, okay? I’m planning a big dinner tonight because I have an exciting announcement to make, and I want  _ everyone  _ to be there!”

A feeling Roman didn’t like settled in his stomach, but he ignored it, keeping up the vibrant performance. “Ooh, I’m intrigued! I will most certainly keep an eye out for the time.”

Patton walked the dishes over to the sink, as Virgil stood up from the table, where he’d been working on a  _ Spyro The Dragon: Reignited _ puzzle; the outer pieces were completed, all the pieces were separated by color, and certain parts of the inside were put together, but there was still a long way to go. Virgil smirked as he walked past Roman, saying loudly, “Ah, so that’s why this morning was so nice and quiet. Shame it couldn’t happen more.”

Roman was struck silent, as he realized none of them had noticed he was gone. Or, at least, none of them had  _ cared _ . It felt like a little sinkhole had sprung up inside of him, and all his natural pleasant feelings were being sucked down into nothingness.

Before the silence lingered long enough for anyone to notice, Roman faked a grin and spun around, watching Virgil’s back as he left the room. Only two seconds had passed after Virgil’s comment before Roman playfully responded, “Oh, you know you love me, Les Miserable.”

“Sure,” was all Virgil said, before disappearing down the hall. Roman gazed after for a moment, waiting for the sound of Virgil’s bedroom door shutting, wondering if Virgil wasn’t just joking, if he would be legitimately happy if he didn’t show up for breakfast anymore…

Roman shook his head. No. Of course not! They were  _ family _ . They  _ loved  _ each other. And, of course, they loved him most of all! (Well, at least some of them had to… Right?)

He shook off the thoughts, walking with a skip in his step back to his room, leaving the kitchen without grabbing a single bite.

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anyone lose sleep_ **

** _If I wasn't hard and hollow_ **

** _Then maybe you would miss me_ **

Roman decided to perform an experiment. He stayed in his room for the entirety of the next two days, except for at mealtimes, during which he’d eat quickly and silently, and slink out without any conversing. The only exception was that first night, because Patton had an announcement to make. He stood up at the table, the widest grin on his blushing face as he lifted his voice.

“Logan and I are dating!”

Naturally, all heads turned toward Logan, whose face was the hue of a strawberry. He fiddled with his tie, analyzing his shoes with an embarrassed smile on his face. Everyone offered their surprised congratulations, including Roman (who never failed to add a little flair to his words), which only made Logan’s smile grow. Roman noticed how their hands were interlocked beneath the table for the whole meal, and how their entire beings radiated pure joy.

Roman was truly happy for them; they were a great match. But… he just wasn’t in the mood for celebrating. He stayed as long as was socially permitted, on such an occasion, then apologized as he spat out a lie about their attachment sparking some creative idea he needed to work through.

He sunk back into his room, and thus started the days of separating himself from the group. He only ran into them at meals, and, to his disappointment, no one seemed to notice. Patton certainly didn’t, because all he could focus on was Logan, and vice versa. It was the kind of mushy beginning of a romance he typically adored, but Roman was always rather self-centered, and he couldn’t help but feel annoyed by their obliviousness.

Roman wondered why no one commented on it. Did they not notice something was wrong? How could they? Was it on them, or on him? What flaw did he have that kept them from missing him?

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_ **

Roman stepped into the kitchen to grab a quick midday sandwich. Deceit was standing over the far end of the table, staring very carefully at the puzzle; little progress had been made. Virgil sat across from him, his back to the sink, so he could look up and have a clear view at the doorway. He glanced up at Roman’s approach, then lowered his head. 

“Looks like Princey made his way out of the castle,” he mumbled, sipping a cup of tea from his crouched position on his chair. Roman squinted at him; that didn’t look very comfortable.

“Indeed,” Roman replied, his voice boisterous and exaggerated — something that usually gave him energy, but which now seemed to deplete instead. He eyed Virgil’s all-black outfit, and shot back, “I see Marilyn Morose just came back from a funeral.”

“Hardy-har-har. Running low on  _ creativity  _ much? I’ve heard that joke before. Don’t tell me you’re running out of juice a week before the next video deadline. Logan’s been pretty strict about that, you know.”

“I’m not running low on  _ anything _ ,” Roman argued. Deceit tensed and straightened up, casting Roman a curious look from across the room, the puzzle forgotten. Roman didn’t notice. “You’ll see — I’ll give Thomas the most glorious idea in all of Youtube history!” He struck a triumphant pose as he spoke, and Virgil snorted.

“Sure, Princey. Keep on dreaming.”

Roman opened his mouth to retaliate, but suddenly became aware of Deceit’s strange yellow eye settled on him. He couldn’t help but shudder at the sight. He still hadn’t quite grown used to it, despite all his attempts at normalcy. He wasn’t used to… the  _ ‘dark sides’ _ in general. He’d had more time to accept Virgil (for whom he couldn’t deny feeling more than mere  _ acceptance  _ for), and he was beginning to rekindle an old friendship with his brother, but with Deceit… Things were still not quite normal.

Unfortunately, Roman was an open book. Deceit frowned, reading something in Roman’s face that he didn’t like. He adjusted his gaze somewhere past the creative side, breaking their eye contact, and walked past him and out of the room without a word.

Roman felt like he’d done something wrong, but exactly what for, he didn’t know. Virgil glanced up, confused by Deceit’s sudden exit, and glared at Roman when he saw the guilt on his face.

“What did you do?” He demanded, his voice tense, like it was when he tried to strike fear in Thomas and the others, back when he was a…  _ ‘dark side’ _ .

_ ‘There are no dark sides, that was your own stupid term, and you need to stop using it.’ _

“I-I don’t know, he just—”   
“Save it, Princey.” Virgil jumped to his feet and pushed Roman out of the way, chasing Deceit down the hall. Roman gritted his teeth and sunk down into his room in a fit of agitation, once again forgetting to grab some food first.

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

Roman was the most upbeat and optimistic of the sides. He tried to look at each day with a cheerful lens and to not feel down about whatever might not be going his way. He was inspired by such characters in fiction — those who always looked on the bright side. Happiness always found them in the end, because they never let anything get to them. He struggled to act like them every day. It always wore him out by the end when he was finally alone in his room for the night, but he felt generally good about himself most days.

Key word being  _ ‘most’ _ .

Roman went to sleep smiling, but the moments just before he slipped out of consciousness, those little things that had upset him during the day tingled at the back of his mind, like a stubborn candle refusing to be put out.

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _Still stuck inside this sorrow_ **

** _I got nothin' and going nowhere_ **

“Creativity” wasn’t an easy job; in fact, it was probably the most challenging responsibility a side could have. It was incredibly mentally taxing, and the worst thing he could possibly do to himself was question, “Is this idea original?” Roman was a perfectionist when it came to his work. He struggled to come up with creative ideas that he thought were “good enough”.

_ ‘It has to be better… It has to be much, much better for Thomas…’ _

But then he ended up rejecting every idea. Everything he came up with just wasn’t good enough. Nothing conformed to his impossible standards of perfection. He nearly pulled out his hair in his frustration, working himself to the bone. His floor was decorated with crumpled up balls of notebook paper; his whiteboard had mapped-out ideas that were exed out after not turning out any good ideas; hundreds of sticky notes of various colors were stuck to his wall, all crying out for his attention, but none of them were worth it.  _ NONE  _ of them were worth it.

“Roman?” Patton looked at him in sympathy when he stumbled down the stairs for dinner, his whole appearance ruffled. “You look like you need a break, buddy. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Roman growled. Deceit rolled his eyes at the obvious lie; it didn’t need pointing out.

“Have you finally come up with an appropriate subject for Thomas’s new video?” Logan prompted, his eyes on a book in his hands. Roman sighed, resting his forehead on his palm.

“No, I — It hasn’t been for a lack of trying.” He hoped that would be enough to get the logical side off his case, but unfortunately, it wasn’t.

“We need an idea soon, Roman. Thomas’s deadline is approaching. We’re trying to work off procrastination here,” Logan reminded him. Roman fumed.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious, for bringing up what I already  _ knew _ .”

Roman stormed over to the counter, where freshly made rolls were sitting out. He grabbed one and began chewing angrily, feeling the twist in his stomach that happened when he remembered he’d been starving.

“Hey, don’t talk to him like that,” Virgil snapped, glaring at Roman. “Logan’s right. Thomas needs this, or all of his fans will be disappointed. So we  _ need  _ an idea, and  _ soon _ .”

Roman blinked, the memory of that dream, that performance, clouding up in his mind. The crowd — the disappointed faces —

“Hey, if Roman isn’t coming up with any great ideas, Thomas can use  _ me  _ instead,” Remus exclaimed, a dangerous glint in his eyes. The other sides collectively grimaced, but tried to hide their expressions as soon as they came; they didn’t want to upset Remus, not after seeing what he’d done to himself the  _ last time _ they made him feel unwanted.

Deceit sighed, placing a gentle hand on the Duke’s shoulder. “Remus, Thomas  _ can  _ use your ideas for this video. Perhaps others in the future, but not this one.”

“Why not?” Remus looked offended. They weren’t sure if it was real or just an act.

Deceit glanced at Logan, and the logical side took on the task of explaining it to him. But Roman wasn’t listening to them anymore. He was frozen in his spot.  _ ‘Thomas can use me instead.’ _

Never before had Roman truly feared being replaced. He knew his job was important to Thomas, and no one else could perform it. … Or could they? Thomas had two creative sides; what if he stopped wanting one? What if he got rid of his  _ brother _ , what if he got rid of  _ him— _

“Roman?” Patton’s voice brought him back to reality. Roman didn’t meet his eyes; he stalked out of the room without a word, and when Patton shared a confused look with Virgil, the anxious side claimed he was just being dramatic.

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_ **

The next time Virgil and Roman traded insults, it got really bad,  _ really  _ fast. Roman just wasn’t in the mood, and very soon, Virgil wasn’t either. Their words were snarky and rude, their nicknames containing no playful affection, their voices dark and bitter. Patton walked in on them early enough to stop any physical violence they might have been building up to, and sent them on their separate ways. Roman went into his room and slammed the door, his furious mind coming up with creative ways to strangle Virgil and then himself. Virgil went to his room feeling the same way, but as soon as he entered his room, the anxious worrying of its atmosphere kicked in, and he began wondering if the Prince had been on edge for a reason.

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

Roman growled at himself for his failure to act in a princely manner. He glanced at himself in the mirror and realized just how atrocious he actually looked; his hair looked like a home for tiny rodents, his skin tone was sickly, his eyes were red and managed to look both dead and scheming at the same time — he looked like a monster.

Roman tried to calm himself down, but he felt tense even in his heart; settling his shoulders did not settle the bundle of nerves inside. He was a letdown — to Thomas, to Virgil, to Logan, to Patton and Remus and Deceit and everyone in the imagination.

He picked up his notebook and threw it across the room with an angry shout. He put all his force into the action, but the book crashed into the wall with a soft slap and fell to the floor, leaving everything silent once more. Roman’s breaths turned ragged, as he surveyed his room with narrowed eyes.

Within a few minutes, almost everything in his room that he could move by himself was now somewhere else. His chair was broken — he’d thrown it into the wall a couple of times, and now it was just a pile of pieces. Its damage didn’t calm him down; the more Roman threw and broke and screamed and cried, the more he wanted to destroy, the more he wanted to break down.

Needless to say, the sounds in his room didn’t go unnoticed. The other sides heard and were beginning to gather in the hall, nervous at the sound of what appeared to be fighting.

“Should we all go check on him? Should only one of us?” Patton asked, looking up at Logan, whose arm he was clutching in his shaking hands. Logan met his gaze, his cheeks turning rosy.

“I’ll do it!” Remus volunteered cheerfully.

“Remus,” Deceit paused. “I’m not so sure that’s—”

“You all stay here.” Remus waved, all ten of his fingers moving back and forth in little waves of their own as he sunk down out of the hall and sunk up into Roman’s room.  _ (As his brother, it was fairly easy to do so — the others required Thomas, or some other strong force to avoid the traditional door-opening. No matter if the door was locked or bolted shut, Remus would always be able to get to his brother. They were never really meant to be apart, after all.) _

Logan sighed, placing a comforting hand on Patton’s shoulder. “They’ll be fine,” he promised. Patton nodded in uncertainty, biting his lip.

“I sure hope so.”

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _Can you help me forget, don't wanna feel like this forever_ **

Remus entered his brother’s room just in time to narrowly avoid a thrown hammer. He blinked, taking in the room’s condition with a grin — for once, his brother seemed to appreciate the beauty of chaos. But then he looked at his brother, and realized there was more to it than that. Roman halted for just a moment, startled, but then his eyes turned dark again and he continued his rampage.

“Wooooow, Roman, love what you’ve done with the place,” Remus stated, watching the fire dance in his twin’s eyes.

“Leave.”

“Nah. I like it in here.” Remus fell down into a pile of balled-up paper and grinned up at Roman.

“Leave,” Roman demanded with gritted teeth. “Or I will  _ hurt  _ you.” His voice shook. It was a genuine plead — he wasn’t in control, and he knew it. But Remus wasn’t afraid.

“No you won’t.”   
“Remus, I—”   
“Because you  _ can’t _ . You couldn’t hit me if I was chained to this wall.” He looked Roman in the eye, his smirk turning devious. “Because you’re just not  _ good enough _ .”

That was the blow that sent Roman entirely over the edge. He unsheathed his sword and charged for his brother. Remus didn’t bother standing up; he summoned his morningstar and countered the strike, easy. He cackled as Roman attempted strike after strike, but it was all too easy to block him with the edge of his weapon… That was, until Roman attempted a jab, at which Remus’s eyes narrowed and he dived to the side. Both men jumped to their feet and engaged in a series of sword clashes; Remus didn’t go on the offensive, but he certainly didn’t let Roman push him around. They were almost evenly matched, as Roman yelled and swung again and again, and Remus deflected and countered, again and again. Roman inevitably ran out of steam, and instead of starting the attack, Remus stood and let his brother back away, face pinched up in an attempt to hold back tears. Roman stepped backwards, dropping his sword at his side and lunging backwards until he was down on the floor, the sounds of his sniffles the only sound that carried across the room. He brought his arms and knees into his chest and let himself fall over, curled up in a ball with his eyes squeezed shut.

Remus kneeled down and crawled over to his brother, gently pushing their weapons out of reach. He gave his brother a solemn stare. “You having intrusive thoughts?”

Roman shook his head. “N-Not exactly… Just… thoughts…”

Remus nodded, feeling a little better about the situation. He stood up. “You can cry.”

“Don’t leave me,” Roman begged, reaching a hand up to tug on his brother’s sleeve, as he began to cry.

“Not leaving you,” Remus promised. He closed his eyes, concentrating his energy into summoning the others into Roman’s room. Roman needed them more than he needed him.

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

The other four sides rose up in Roman’s room, gasping when they saw what had happened. Patton went running straight for Roman, sliding down beside him and pulling him up and into a big hug, which Roman accepted without complaint. Virgil ran over, demanding an explanation which Roman was too inconsolable to give. Remus walked to the other end of the room, his mind and body weary from the strain his call had put him under. He collapsed in the corner, pulling himself into his own little ball. Deceit rushed to check on him, while Logan stood in the center of the room, trying to examine both sides at once.

“There, there,” Patton whispered, shushing Roman as he cried into his shoulder. “Only when you’re ready. It’s all okay. It’s all okay.”

Virgil was more impatient; his mind was going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what had done this to Roman, whether it was his fault, what he could do to fix this, why someone as happy and outgoing as  _ Roman  _ could ever look as broken as  _ this _ .

Roman gathered himself in just a few minutes. He looked up and around the room — at Logan’s calm collected face, at Deceit’s steady supportive expression, at Remus’s exhausted sleepy gaze, at Virgil’s terrified searching eyes, at Patton’s patient empathetic smile.

“When you’re ready,” Patton whispered.

** _If I left tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _Stuck in this sorrow_ **

** _Going nowhere_ **

Roman sighed and spoke. “I can’t come up with an idea that’s good enough for Thomas’s next video. No matter how hard I try, it doesn’t even seem to matter... I’ve spent days and nights, all of my energy, and for nothing…” He closed his eyes to shut out the tears, lowering his head so his hair covered up his weakness. Virgil had never once seen Roman look so insecure. He didn’t like it. He really didn’t. And he was starting to think it was his fault. “Nothing I do ever seems to matter, I… I’m always going to let someone down… Thomas, the viewers, all of you… It’s… Nothing’s ever good enough.”

“Roman…”

“ _ I’m _ not… good enough...”

Virgil’s eyes widened.

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

“Oh, Roman — come on now, of course you are.” Patton hugged Roman once more, then let go and looked into his eyes. “We all love you. We’re just a little stressed. You’re doing your best.”

“And it’s not enough…”

“I apologize, Roman.” Logan frowned, taking in Roman’s appearance for the first time in weeks. Had he been so distracted that he couldn’t see his expectations taking their toll? “Thomas’s next video can wait. His… and all of our… well-beings matter far more than his Youtube channel.”

“I think we  _ don’t  _ need another family movie night,” Deceit murmured, pulling a tired Remus up to his feet. Patton nodded in agreement.

“But… the fans will be disappointed,” Roman argued. “It’s not good enough… I’m not—”

“Hey.” Virgil kneeled down next to Roman with a bitter smile. “Don’t let me put thoughts into your head. Don’t want it getting more bloated than it already is.”

Roman glared, and Virgil’s smile widened, seeing the fiery glint he loved in Roman’s eyes.

“And… it wasn’t true. You  _ are  _ good enough to me, Princey. In fact…” he looked away shyly. “You’re  _ perfect _ . So don’t sweat it, okay?”

Roman blinked, slowly taking in Virgil’s words, and the little blush growing on his cheeks. His own began to redden as a smile brightened up his face. “Aw, come here, my dear shadowling!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You know you love me!”

“Sh-Shut up…”

“Come here and give ol’ Princey a hug!”

“I’m regretting every second of this.”

“Are you?” Roman asked, a mere murmur, his eyes flashing with a vulnerability Virgil could not stand. He knew it was feigned, but he couldn’t let Roman look like that any longer. With a groan, he sunk to his knees and took Roman’s hand in his. While Roman stared at their hands in awe, Virgil blurted out, “Of course not, you idiot, we all like you, okay? We all…  _ love  _ you.  _ All  _ of us. So… go back to being your obnoxious happy self again, all right? … Please?”

Roman smiled and cupped Virgil’s chin with his hand, guiding their eyes to meet. His eyes crinkled with joy. “ _ You _ are perfect.” Virgil blushed, his eyes dropping off to the side, avoiding Roman’s.

“No I’m not,” Virgil murmured, looking to Patton for help. Before Roman could argue, Patton cried, “You’re  _ all  _ perfect!” and threw the two of them into a group hug. All of the other sides piled on (with various levels of enthusiasm), until the force tipped them all to the side and everyone collapsed on the bedroom floor, a pile of tangled limbs and laughing faces.

This… was good enough.


	6. Virgil Sanders

Virgil clung to Roman tightly from the center of the group hug, refusing to let anyone ply his way between them. He wasn’t a big fan of group hugs, but if he just paid attention to Roman, he could pretend it was just the two of them. He ducked his head into Roman’s chest, breathing against the fabric of his red loungewear, taking in all that was Roman to prevent himself from spiraling into a panic attack. He’d been working on managing his anxiety, and things really were getting better… But today? Today was much harder than the rest. Because Roman was hurting, and because it was  _ his  _ fault.

Virgil tensed, drawing himself into himself more, into Roman. Roman’s hold on him seemed to tighten, pulling them as close as physically possible—and still trying to bring him in more. Virgil wished they were alone, wished they were alone in Roman’s warm and pleasant room, wished they didn’t have this fabric in the way, preventing him from seeing all of Roman, from touching all of Roman, from being one with Roman.

But, no—it couldn’t be. Because Virgil had hurt him. Roman’s room was a mess, and although the creative side was smiling now, things didn’t get resolved just like that. The issue was hidden deeper, beneath those unsmiling eyes and his desperate cravings for physical contact. No, Roman wasn’t better at all, but he was  _ acting  _ like he was. And no one could call him out on it.

_ ‘It’s all my fault.’ _

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _If my time was up I'd wanna know_ **

** _You were happy I was there_ **

The past year had taken a toll on their family. Until Remus’s…  _ actions  _ sparked them all to reflect deeper on themselves as individuals, things had seemed quite fine. No one knew how long Remus had been suffering; no one knew what was going on inside his head. He had scared them from the very beginning, but when Virgil and Roman caught him hurting himself, taking that step further than they ever thought he would, it scared them even more. It scared them because, until then, no one ever thought what it would be like to lose one of their own. It made them want to hold tightly onto one another, never letting go, afraid of what might happen behind closed doors, whether they’d even know if something was wrong, whether they’d get there in time.

Over the next several weeks, Remus was integrated into their fam-ILY. Roman and Remus conjured up a bunk bed once in a while, or just slept side by side in Roman’s room; the creative twin was the most worried, and for a full week, he didn’t let his brother out of his sight, unless someone else was left with him. Everyone tried to be more open to Remus’s vulgarity, and tried to accept his… creative differences. The few warm, real smiles he gave Patton at mealtimes told them it was worth it. Patton cried that first night, when Remus exclaimed how amazing the food tasted up there, and told him how nice and warm his hugs were. It was shocking, how  _ innocent  _ Remus could be at times, when he was experiencing new things. Virgil, being the embodiment of anxiety, was surprised to find that, a month or so after the incident, he was no longer afraid of the other side.

They were all so focused on Remus, trying to fix their mistakes, that they never even thought about Deceit. They didn’t even notice how rarely he showed up, and… well, incident number two happened. After that, they were determined to make sure everyone felt like a welcome member of the family. No exceptions.

Everyone had been trying very hard to fix things, Virgil included. Sometimes, they screwed up, like when Roman made an unflattering joke about Deceit’s scales, or when Logan blew up because Patton still wasn’t listening to his side of an argument. In some cases, things went wrong, but they admitted their mistakes, tried to change, and came together as a family.

_ ‘We used to be two families,’ _ Virgil remembered, as brief flashes of the past entered his mind—Deceit reading in the living room while Remus danced and screamed, Logan and Patton and Roman playing board games in the light side’s living room, Virgil standing in the subconscious contemplating where he belonged.  _ ‘Once, I thought I didn’t belong in either… But I belong now.’ _

** _‘Do you?’_ **

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anyone lose sleep_ **

** _If I wasn't hard and hollow_ **

** _Then maybe you would miss me_ **

Later that night, all the sides slept together in the living room. They’d put on a series of Disney movies, and fell asleep at varying times. All except Virgil; he just couldn’t sleep.

He’d been on the couch with Roman and Patton. Somehow, all three of them managed to fit—though, maybe it was in part due to the fact that Virgil hadn’t been lying down. Patton and Roman had their heads on opposite ends of the couch, their feet somehow not in each other’s faces. Virgil had been sitting with Patton’s head against his leg, so he very carefully pulled himself off the couch and tiptoed away. He needed some air, and it was way too warm.

Virgil sat down at the bottom of the staircase, where he could watch over them all from afar. He smiled at the peace of their natural slumber; the gentle sounds of their breaths kept his anxiety at bay. He noticed that Logan was curled up on the armchair, his glasses left on the nightstand. His face looked much less rigid in sleep, far more sweet. Even Deceit and Remus looked endearing at the moment; Remus’s sleeping bag was pulled right up to the couch, and Deceit’s was on his other side. The scale-faced side was facing the couch, the smooth side of his face turned upwards, which made him appear almost as angelic as Roman. Remus wasn’t in his bag at all; he was lying on top at a perpendicular angle. His legs were up on the couch, resting across Roman’s stomach, while his head was leaning against the side of Deceit’s sleeping bag, his arms resting over his head, on top of Deceit. He looked like he was just sprawled there disorderly, but Virgil wondered if it was intentional, if Remus had the same protective instincts as he did.

Virgil couldn’t placate the creeping smile that went over his face. He loved them. In these quiet hours, where there were no arguments, no family feuds, no  _ acting  _ involved, he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t a fact. He wanted to protect them all. Roman, Patton, Logan… Heck, even Remus and Deceit. Not that he would’ve admitted it long ago, but he had always cared for them.

_ ‘I wonder if they really did miss me when they decided to leave the dark side, or whether they just wanted a part in my new famILY.’ _

Virgil frowned. The thoughts were like a knife that carved open a window for all his worries to come flooding in.

_ ‘How do I belong in this crazy group? Look at them. Where is my place?’ _

_ ‘Am I still an outsider? What if they’re just lying? What if they don’t like me, what if they realize what I did to Roman?’ _

_ ‘There’s no room for me here. I don’t belong.’ _

_ ‘They don’t really want me. Look at them, all so happy and content. What makes me important?’ _

_ ‘Anxiety. Anxiety is a disease. I hurt Thomas.’ _

_ ‘Would they miss me… Would they be bothered if they knew I wasn’t over there right now?’ _

_ ‘No. Anxiety is your job. Without you, they’re at peace. Just look.’ _

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_ **

What an anxious, desperate mess he was back then—and still was. For the longest time, he’d tried to gain their attention and love, popping up when he wasn’t wanted, not leaving even when they sent him withering scowls and called him names. Somehow, everything ended up just how he wanted. Even when he claimed Patton’s hugs bothered him, or avoided Logan’s curious dissecting stares, or insulted Roman with harsher words than the other side teased him with, they could tell he was lying. Even without Deceit, they could see right through him. (Maybe Roman didn’t, at first, but now they were on better terms.) And they forgave him for everything he’d done wrong.

The damage he’d caused to Thomas because he was anxious… It was unacceptable. He put the others in danger, he put Thomas in danger, all because of his stupidity. He could have messed everything up, distorted the others beyond repair, hurt  _ Thomas…  _ But that was in the past, right?

Virgil rested his arms on his knees and lowered his head into the little cove he’d made with his body. His eyelids squeezed shut as he put all his mental energy into calming himself down, allowing the little thought to slip past his defenses:  _ ‘You’re still screwing things up.’ _

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

“Virgil?”

The tension in Virgil’s body skyrocketed. He flinched and let his eyes search out the source of the noise. A half-asleep Logan was squinting at him in the darkness, his hand calmly reaching out for his glasses. Virgil couldn’t help the wave of guilt and disappointment he felt for disrupting his sleep; Logan’s face was already beginning to tighten, the gears slowly beginning to turn once again, ending the brief peace he must have been experiencing.

“H-Hey.”

Logan slid his glasses back onto his head and blinked twice before narrowing as he examined Virgil. The anxious side turned away; he didn’t like being scrutinized. He could already feel his palms getting sweaty, his breathing getting faster, his heart pounding in his body. He tried to pull himself together, as he always did, he  _ tried _ , he  _ tried so hard _ , but his body was out of control, his mind was out of control. Sometimes he wondered if his attempts really mattered at all.

“Would you like to join me in the kitchen for a drink?” Logan suggested. Virgil thought for a moment, then nodded and rose to his feet, even though he really just wanted to go hide somewhere alone. Anything else would make Logan more suspicious.

They stepped into the kitchen, where Logan filled two glasses of water and handed one to Virgil. He mumbled a quiet “thank-you” as he held the glass and took a long drink. Logan was watching him very carefully, only taking a small sip of his own. When Virgil removed the glass from his lips, the logical side spoke up.

“Are you all right, Virgil?”

The anxious side felt his muscles tense. He murmured, “I’m fine,” before quickly dropping the glass on the table and hurrying out of the room. Logan’s eyes widened; he’d known something was up, but he hadn’t thought Virgil would run off already, with so little pressure. He quickly followed out the door, watching Virgil tiptoe up the stairs with lightning speed.

“Virgil, please don’t run,” he called, loud enough for Virgil to hear, but hopefully not enough to wake the others. Patton stirred on the couch, and he mumbled a curse to himself. Virgil paused near the top of the stairs.

“It’s… nothing bad enough to worry about,” he replied, going for reassurance, but his voice was shaky with the familiar twinge of panic. “I promise. Don’t worry. I just… I need to be alone.”

Logan didn’t like that, but he nodded, albeit with hesitance. He wasn’t going to force Virgil into doing anything he didn’t want to do. As long as Virgil knew he could open up to them… As long as no one felt pressured to hide anymore. “All right, Virgil, I trust you. Sleep well.”

Virgil took a deep, steadying breath. He wasn’t going to be followed. “Thanks. Night.”

Virgil disappeared into his room. The next morning, Patton woke and wondered where his anxious son had gone. Logan only told him the facts, that he and Virgil had woken up last night and Virgil went back to his room, but nothing of his suspicions. Roman was a little disappointed that, when he woke up, everyone was gone—well, almost everyone. Earlier, Deceit had woken up and decided to help Patton with breakfast, and Remus woke with him. Apparently Remus was still tired, because when Roman woke, his brother was lying opposite him on the couch, his foot hanging in the air right by his face. Roman rolled his eyes and tried to rise, only to have his brother pounce on him. Remus squeezed himself between Roman and the couch, spooning him with a contented sigh.

“Good lord, Remus, I have to use the bathroom,” Roman complained, pushing himself up and crawling to the opposite end of the couch, out of his brother’s reach. The Duke pouted, stretching out with an exaggerated whine, extending his big toe into his twin’s cheek.   
“But I really wanted to  _ cuddle _ ! Can’t you snuggle up real close with your brother~?”

“Why didn’t you just do that while I was asleep?”

Remus gave him an exasperated glare. “Consent, my dear brother. Consent is key.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Virgil watched them from the top of the staircase, smirking. At least Roman was all right.

_ ‘He will never be all right. You hurt him, you know it. You’re a monster.’ _

Virgil growled to himself and went right back to his room. He could deal with his thoughts alone. Better that than to stay down there long enough to let Logan’s searching eyes or Deceit’s receptive ears catch him in a lie.

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _Still stuck inside this sorrow_ **

** _I got nothin' and going nowhere_ **

Virgil woke up slowly one morning. Waking up was never fun. There was always a brief second of complete and absolute peace, and then it all came back like the flick of a light switch—all of the stresses of the previous night, all the worries that were to be had for today. He could feel the tension creep back into his body, as real and physical as the soft fabric underneath his clenched fists. There was no way to flick the switch back and forget all of his anxiety, make it all go away. He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t just avoid the world the way he so desperately wanted to. Virgil was stuck, stuck with this terrible, dreadful feeling that he felt seemingly every conscious moment of his life, and he couldn’t escape it.

Instead of dealing with it, Virgil tried to stay in bed all day and go back to sleep.

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_ **

“Virgil?” Patton gently knocked on the door. He smiled reassuringly, as if Virgil could see him from the other side. “I want to know how you’re doing, kiddo. Can you open the door?” He’d learned over time that it was better to ask ‘can you open the door’ than ‘can you let me in.’

Virgil sighed; he really didn’t want to worry his family, especially Patton. He pulled himself together and rolled out of bed. When he opened the door, Patton’s smile brightened. Virgil could practically feel the warmth and love radiating from the fatherly side, and he forced a small smile.

_ ‘I don’t deserve this.’ _

“Hey, kiddo. How’re you feeling?”

The anxious side sighed, letting his eyes fall to Patton’s unicorn slippers. “Not that great. I’m not really feeling up to… going out today.”

Patton nodded, ever so sympathetic. He understood the feeling. Most days, if he was in his room for too long, the nostalgia would make him too emotional and he wouldn’t want to leave, either. It would be no surprise if Virgil’s room had a similar effect, but with anxiety more than grief and loss. Fear of what’s to come, rather than longing for the past.

“Can I at least bring you something to eat?”

“It’s okay,” Virgil said, shaking his head. “Is that it?”

Patton got the message. “Yep, that’s it.” He smiled sadly. “We love you, Virgil. Come out if you need us for anything, okay?”

Virgil nodded, quickly shutting the door. He scurried to his bed, and he didn’t plan on leaving for a long time.   
  
Unfortunately, though, “a long time” wasn’t long enough. Patton knocked on his door hours later, asking politely for entry. Virgil groaned and considered pretending he was asleep. However, Patton just knocked again, warning, “Virgey, I’m gonna keep standing here until you open the door! I got something special for you!”

Well. Virgil might be an ass, but he wasn’t going to take up Patton’s precious time just to call out his bluff. Plus, he had to admit, he was curious.

So he got up and reluctantly answered the door. As soon as the door was open, Patton shoved a tray in his face. It had a plate full of chocolate chip cookies, a glass of milk half empty (half full, as Patton would say), and a single napkin with a smiley face drawn on it with a blue marker, along with the message, ‘You’re not alone!’

Virgil took the tray, feeling embarrassed. “Th-Thanks, Patton… You didn’t have to do this.”  _ ‘Not for me. I don’t deserve it.’ _

“Of course I didn’t! I wanted to.” Patton wished him a good day before triumphantly skipping down the hall. Virgil watched him as he went, then glanced back down at the smiley face on his napkin. He wished he could be as good a person as Patton. Everything would be better if the world had more Pattons and less Virgils. If only.

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

A couple days later, Virgil finally brought himself to leave his room. If he was being honest with himself, the main reason he left was his concern for Thomas. It couldn’t be good for him to have a side not functioning properly.

He headed down to the kitchen, hoping to find it empty so he could make a sandwich without having to speak. Unfortunately, Deceit was in there, sitting at the table and working on a new puzzle, this one being of outer space, with fewer colors and more pieces. Virgil considered joining him, but he didn’t feel like talking, and after three days of hiding out in his room, Deceit was going to want some answers. The scaled side noticed his entrance, raising an eyebrow at Virgil’s bedhead. “Good afternoon.”

Virgil hadn’t realized it was that late in the day already. He murmured a greeting and went to the bread drawer, thinking to himself,  _ ‘Please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything.’ _ To his credit, Deceit gave him the space he needed to make his lunch. Time passed in silence, with Deceit continuing to separate the pieces. He had the outer foundation done, but the puzzle was incredibly difficult. Virgil examined it closer as he ate his sandwich. He didn’t envy Deceit; it looked terribly frustrating.

Virgil didn’t realize how relaxed he was until Deceit spoke up and the tension soaked into his body. “How are you today, Virgil?”

Virgil swore under his breath. He hated when Deceit did this. Whether he told the truth or not, Deceit would have his answer. He stayed silent, hoping the other side would let it slide, but then Deceit turned his yellow eye unto him. Virgil growled and looked away. “Leave me alone.”

“We have been,” the other replied softly. “And I see it hasn’t done you any good. At least speak with Roman, if no one else. It may help you both.”

“Shut up,” Virgil snapped, turning on his heel. Thankfully, Deceit didn’t try to stop him.

However, someone else did. Virgil felt the uncomfortable dread enter his chest as Roman called his name. He was sitting on the couch, watching the Tangled tv show, but his head had turned to face Virgil. “Hey, Prince Brooding, come over here for a minute, I want your opinion.”

“Not now,” Virgil snapped. Roman paused, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone.

“Virgil, is there something—”   
“ ** _Leave me ALONE._ ** ”

Roman flinched, his eyes becoming sad. Regret stabbed at Virgil’s heart; he hadn’t meant to use that voice, the warped and overpowering Anxiety voice, but he was starting to have trouble breathing. He felt dizzy, he felt like someone was chasing him, and he couldn’t stop to give Roman the apology and comfort he deserved.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil called back as he hurried up the stairs. Roman simply turned his head back to the tv. Guilt and anger and fear, fear,  ** _fear _ ** overwhelmed Virgil, and all he could do was hurry back to his room, back where he was safe, where he could be alone and  _ breathe _ . He focused on getting back there, pushing away the thoughts of Roman until he was alone.

_ ‘Almost there… I’m almost there…’ _

Virgil turned the corner and raced to his room, but before he could get to the doorknob, a body was standing in his way. Remus.

“Virgin Virgie!” The former dark side sang with a chaotic smile. Virgil’s mind swam,  _ ‘Run, run, RUN!!!’ _

“Move it,” Virgil growled, steadying his voice as much as he could. He was just a step away, just one step to safety, one step to peace and quiet. He felt himself losing control, felt the Anxiety voice building up in his throat. He didn’t stop it. He didn’t think. He needed Remus gone.

Remus cocked his head to the side, his expression unchanging. “What’ve you got stuck up your-?”

** _“GET YOUR PIECE OF SHIT ASS OUT OF MY WAY AND IN THE SUBCONSCIOUS WHERE IT BELONGS.”_ **

Remus’s smile vanished. He let Virgil shove him out of the way and enter his room without a hassle, and when Virgil turned around and slammed the door shut, Remus hadn’t made any effort to move. He was as still as a statue.

Virgil hobbled over to his bed frame and slid down against it, gasping for air as his hand reached for his chest, as if to comfort his overactive heart. He heard movement out in the hall but he didn’t know what it might be. All he knew was, he was going to hyperventilate; he might pass out if he didn’t do something to get back in control, fast. He quickly practiced some of Thomas’s calming techniques.  _ ‘Breathe in for four seconds. Hold your breath for seven. Breathe out for eight. Continue. In for four. Hold for seven. Breathe for eight. Relax. Everything is fine. Relax. You’re safe. Repeat.’  _ He repeated. He did it, again and again and again, and then some more.

_ ‘Breathe, breathe, breathe.’ _

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _Can you help me forget, don't wanna feel like this forever_ **

Virgil didn’t know for how long he went through that exercise, but he knew it took a really long time before he could breathe like a regular human being again. He couldn’t remember what had set him off. Once he was relatively calm, he traced back to his last interaction in his mind.

_ “GET YOUR PIECE OF SHIT ASS OUT OF MY WAY AND IN THE SUBCONSCIOUS WHERE IT BELONGS.” _

Virgil gasped. Remus. He’d said  _ that  _ to Remus.

“What did I do?” Virgil whispered shakily, looking at his hands in mortification. Tears turned his eyes into shiny stars.  _ ‘I… I have to go back, I have to apologize, there’s no telling what he could do… What he did…’ _ Virgil remembered that day, entering Remus’s room with Roman, watching what Remus had done to himself, bashing his head against the wall to make the pain stop—and then his nails, scratching off layers of skin until he made himself bleed… He couldn’t let himself be responsible for sending Remus off the deep end again; he couldn’t bear the guilt.

But he also couldn’t bring himself to move.

He was afraid to go out and check. It was a Schrodinger’s cat situation; if he never opened the door, maybe Remus would still be fine. He was terrified of opening that door.

So Virgil remained in his room, plagued by his own thoughts for hours, until the darkness of night came and the others were fed up with waiting. They tried to open his door, but finding it locked, Deceit decided to use up his energy to pop into the room and unlock it. He collapsed into Logan’s steady arms, while Patton rushed to Virgil’s bed and pulled his dark son into a warm hug. Virgil allowed himself to be taken into the father figure’s arms, closing his eyes and focusing on Patton and nothing else, and before he knew it, he was in Logan’s room, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Patton and Roman. Patton had an arm wrapped around the anxious side’s shoulders. Roman sat a few feet away and looked at him with wide, watchful eyes, and everyone else stood further back in the room, giving him the space that he needed. Virgil knew the silence wouldn’t last, though; he was meant to break it. With a heavy sigh, he looked up.

“Why are we in Logan’s room?”

Deceit rolled his eyes. Clearly that wasn’t what they wanted him to say. “You  _ don’t  _ know why.”

Virgil did know. Logan’s room became sort of like the therapy zone at some point over the last few months. The room brought them back to reality and calmed them down. Its effects were helpful to everyone, except sometimes Roman and Remus, because it could dash their dreams and crush their spirit. But in Virgil’s case, it eased his anxiety and cleared his head. Because of that, he had no problems breathing, nor did he have much trouble at all thinking clearly. He was able to speak just fine.

He just didn’t want to say what needed to be said.

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

“Are you okay?” Patton asked worriedly.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah…  _ I _ am.”

Virgil tried to sneak a searching glance at Remus, but the intrusive side wasn’t too oblivious to notice. He waved him off. “Oh, don’t be so anxious over every little thing, Virgil. I appreciate the concern, but it takes a lot more than  _ that  _ pathetic insult to get to me.”

“But…” Virgil couldn’t stop picturing Remus’s reaction—his frozen body, his empty expression, his eery silence…

Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. You’re the Emo Nightmare who locked himself in his room.”

Virgil smiled sheepishly. He stole a glance at Roman, and the guilt returned. “Sorry I snapped at you… I just needed to be alone, it wasn’t you.”

“Oh, let it go, Brad Pitiful.” Roman smiled. “No one blames you. We just want you to talk to us.”

Virgil nodded, his smile fading away as he realized what he needed to say.

** _If I left tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _Stuck in this sorrow_ **

** _Going nowhere_ **

“I’ve just been… anxious, lately, and… overthinking things, I guess,” Virgil shrugged. He glanced up; everyone’s eyes were still on him, encouraging him to continue. He flinched from their gaze, and looked to the floor. “And I guess a little of it is guilt. I pushed you too far last week, Roman. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I did it anyway, and I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Roman replied, nudging him on the arm. “All is forgiven.”

“And Remus,” Virgil continued. “I—”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. It’s fine. Move on.”

“... And, just in general… How I acted toward the dark si— I mean… Remus, Deceit… It’s bothering me lately. I feel like I’m the cause of it all. I left, and then I treated you like crap…”

“You were the cause of our acceptance, Virgil,” Deceit interrupted. “When you were accepted, it opened Thomas’s mind, and the others’ minds, to accept the rest of us. You are not to blame.”

Virgil wished he could have felt better, but none of their words were relieving him from his guilt. “No, you guys don’t get it. Even without that, I’m  _ Anxiety _ . I’ve hurt everyone. I’ve hurt Thomas. I-I’m a disease, I’m not supposed to be here, I don’t belong, I can’t stop feeling that way and I haven’t stopped feeling that way for years.”

“We know how you feel,” Patton murmured, tightening his hold on Virgil. The anxious side shook his head, pushing him away.

“No, you don’t! I-I can’t help but push you all away, I can’t stop myself from feeling so alone, like an outsider, no matter where I am. I-I get so nervous, I can’t help but run away and hide; my instincts kick in, and I say things I don’t mean.”   
“I know,” Roman said, but Virgil ignored him.

“And then I _hurt _you. And then when I’m alone, it’s just as bad. I don’t _think _it’s as bad at the time, but it is, because then there’s nothing stopping the thoughts, no distractions, I’m as alone as I _feel I am_ sometimes when I’m with you guys, but there’s no _proof _that I belong down there with you, because I’m not _there_.” Virgil risked a glance up at the others. They all looked supportive and concerned, but none of them looked surprised, just expectant. “And then I can’t breathe, and I have to take god knows how long to figure out how to start up again, and—”

Virgil stopped mid-sentence, as the realization struck him. “You know.” They were there not because they wanted an explanation. They understood the whole time. Logan offered him a glass of water and offered to talk, but didn’t try to pressure him; he just overreacted. Patton was keeping him fed and letting him know he cared. Deceit knew he might run if he showed his concern, so he waited for Virgil to eat his sandwich before asking questions. And Roman and Remus were just checking up on him when he blew up on them. They were trying to help all along; they knew exactly what he was dealing with. Well, of course they did; he was anxiety, after all, and of course they’d know the signs when something was up with him. They’d been right there with Thomas during all of his anxiety attacks, after all.

“Yeah, that’s what we’ve been saying this whole time,” Roman replied, with an annoyed eye roll. Virgil started to feel stupid, but Patton just embraced him earnestly, mumbling, “We understand that it’s not easy. We just want you to know that.”

All they wanted was for him to know. They didn’t criticize him for his mistakes. They didn’t want to control him, to force him to interact with them when he was feeling out of it. They just wanted to let him know that they knew, so he didn’t keep on going with the wrong idea in his head. He couldn’t believe he’d avoided them out of fear. It was stupid. They all knew Remus had intrusive thoughts, and they didn’t keep him on a leash. Why did he assume they’d treat him differently? Virgil wanted to laugh. Of course they knew. They were famILY. Family was always there for family, no matter what. No matter what he needed.

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

“And, Virgil.” Roman’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Roman was smiling amusedly at him. Virgil didn’t realize he’d been grinning like an idiot, and quickly collected himself. Patton let go and allowed Roman to throw himself at Virgil. Virgil held back a gasp as Roman wrapped himself around Virgil, holding him close. It wasn’t just an ordinary hug; it was the hug of someone who was afraid to let go. “You’re perfect.” Virgil felt tears well up in his eyes as he reciprocated the hug with his entire being. His heart sounded like it was knocking against a wall; it felt like that wall was connected to the outside of his body. But this time, he could breathe. As long as he didn’t cry, he could breathe.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured back. Roman lifted one hand to play around with his hair. Virgil’s face became as red as a tomato. Was this the time? Was it? … Well, if he wasn’t going to say it now, he doubted he’d ever say it in another situation. To hell with it. Virgil stuffed his head into Roman’s shirt, muffling his voice. “I love you.”

Roman laughed; it was a wet, shaky laugh, and Virgil only realized then that he was crying. His anxiety kicked in.  _ ‘Oh no. Did I make him cry? Is he laughing at me? Did I screw up? Oh, no, oh no, oh no…’ _

Roman’s grip on him tightened, and somehow, Virgil found it easier to breathe. The closer he was to Roman, the easier it was to breathe.

“Oh, I love you more, my shadowling.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed. “I’m calling bull on that.”

“Do I need to prove it to you?” Roman’s voice was very suggestive.

“Yuck,” Remus exclaimed, sticking out his tongue. Deceit was now leaning against him, rather than the logical side, who looked somewhat unnerved. “On Lo-Lo’s bed? You’re nasty, Ro.”

Roman pulled away from Virgil, enough so that Virgil could see how red Roman’s face had become. The creative side was glaring at his brother. “Oh, shut up, that’s not what I was insinuating and you know it!”

Logan cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should leave them alone. … But I also agree, preferably not on my bed, you two.”

“We aren’t going to—!” Virgil’s eyes widened, as he tried to remove the mental image he was sure they all had by now, thanks to Remus.

Patton jumped off the bed with a bubbly laugh. He took to his boyfriend’s side, wrapping his arms around Logan and leaning into him affectionately. “I love my family.” A blush spread across Logan’s face, and he wrapped an arm around Patton, nodding in agreement.

Remus glanced at Deceit and grinned. “Everyone’s pairing off, Dee. When are we going to get together?”

Deceit rolled his eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny, Remus.”

The second half of creativity turned his head so his entire focus was on his friend. His expression was dead serious. “It wasn’t a joke.”

Deceit blinked, and before he could react further, Remus leaned down and gave him a quick kiss where his jawline met his cheek, before pulling away not even a second later. Deceit was stunned. Remus simply laughed as he watched the non-scaly side of his face turn rosy.

“Remus, I… I—” Deceit stammered, unsure of what to say. He looked twice as anxious as Virgil, eyes as wide as saucers. Remus cackled, and Deceit’s face went blank; he took the laugh to mean it was a joke. But then Remus realized the impression he was giving off, and he gently pressed his lips against the left corner of Deceit’s mouth, then the right, then his forehead. Deceit went back into a shocked state, while Remus grinned at the color he’d brought to the other’s face.

“Look at them, Logan,” Patton whispered, motioning to both duos. Roman and Virgil were wiping away each other’s tears and whispering to one another with wide smiles on their faces. Remus was talking very suggestively towards Deceit, who looked like he might pass out if he didn’t start breathing soon. “Aren’t they just wonderful?”

Logan glanced at the others, but his eyes soon settled on Patton, who was staring at the other sides with complete love in his eyes. “Yes,” Logan agreed, watching the pure joy glow on Patton’s sweet face. “Yes they are.”

Patton looked back up at him, the breath catching in his throat. They stared deeply into each other’s eyes, seeing only pure love in each. They leaned in closer, eyelids fluttering. Patton’s hand reached up to brush Logan’s cheek, as his voice softened, barely audible as he whispered, “I love—” But before he could finish, Logan swiftly closed the gap between them and silenced Patton with a deep kiss. Their eyes closed and their arms wrapped around one another, until suddenly all they cared about was the other.

Needless to say, Thomas felt a newfound love and appreciation for himself that day. His mental health peaked over the next couple of months—so much, in fact, that he rarely felt the need to consult with his sides. Nevertheless, they continued to fulfill their duties for Thomas while also learning to love themselves and each other. Things seemed relatively peaceful for a long time.

That was why, when everything suddenly went wrong, no one knew who to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go! I think that, for this story, self-love is very important for Thomas, and that's why I decided to pair up each of the characters. I considered various different pairings such as Intrulogical, Roceit, Moxiety, Moceit, etc., but the way the story progressed, it just seemed to make sense to make the ships Logicality and Prinxiety. Not sure how I feel about the Intruceit ship here, whether it should be part of this story, or whether it should just be platonic. Let me know if you have any ideas, and also if you have any requests for future one-shots or stories, using any ship.  
The next part probably won't be out until January, unless I have a productive Christmas break. Fair warning.  
Thanks for reading! Please comment!


	7. Thomas Sanders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Brief notes: Technically this is Thomas's chapter, but it's more about the collective sides, because I'm not really a big fan of using real people in my stories without their permission. Yes, Thomas and Joan are in it, but as brief as possible.  
The hospital story is based on a family incident that gave me my worst bout of depression, so... yeah. That sort of inspired events in this part. Rest in peace, grandma.  
Also, this chapter took FOREVER because I kept rewriting and scrapping ideas and then going back and rereading and tweaking things so many times. If I reread it again I know I'll just keep changing things and it will go on forever, so here it is! Let me know if I made any mistakes or something doesn't make sense and I might go back and fix it. Or if I need to tag something. Please enjoy!]

Time went on. Things got better before they got worse. It was a good start... If only they could have kept it up.

Mistakes were made on stage, leading to a lot of stress and anxiety, which caused a rift between Roman and Virgil. Ordinarily it wouldn’t have gotten too bad, but Thomas had a lot of backlash from his fans after he was caught making a few offhand comments that sounded much worse than intended. He kept to his house for the next several weeks, afraid of being seen in public, which only worsened things and brought back his old depression.

This state of mind empowered some of the sides and weakened some others. Remus struggled to repress his intrusive thoughts from occurring to Thomas, particularly the nasty ones. He and Roman got into arguments over his failure far too many times, but over time Roman started losing his will to fight. Remus was gradually becoming stronger, unconsciously sapping energy from his twin. No one questioned it at first, too busy with their own problems and thankful for an end to the bickering. Roman retreated into his room and rarely came back out, no matter how many times Virgil knocked on his door.

Then Thomas started making some... frightening decisions. He wanted to know what it felt like to slice his arm open. He wanted to know if he could hold his breath until he passed out. He wanted to know, and he tried, but Logan and Deceit got a hold of him first. They had to work overtime, because they were the only ones keeping him sane.

When Remus realized his thoughts were hurting Thomas, he tried to restrain himself. But the thoughts were stronger than ever before, and nothing could take his mind off of their intense negativity. Some days he went into a catatonic state and could barely do anything; other days someone entered his room to find him screaming on the floor with his fists slamming against his head. Remus lost control of himself most days; Deceit would restrain him so he didn’t act on his thoughts or push Thomas to do them. It was too much to handle alone. He gave the others permission to hurt him if need be, but they refused. He tried to escape into the subconscious, but Deceit held him back, while Virgil and Logan sealed the door as best as they could.

Even Patton was becoming warped. His mind was hazy and slow, as if he were in a constantly sleep-deprived state. His sense of right and wrong was distorted. To the others’ horror, it was _ he _ who told Thomas it was okay to listen to intrusive thoughts that slipped through. _ He _ told Thomas that distancing himself from his friends was morally the best thing to do. _ He _told him it would be to the benefit of others to play with the kitchen knife a little. Patton latched onto Logan, confused whenever he or Deceit shouted at Thomas to stop, to ignore his sense of Morality. It took all of Logan’s strength not to go lock Patton in his room. It would make his job easier, maybe even save his host’s life, but he couldn’t bear to watch Patton cry because of him. It wasn’t Patton’s fault; he was delirious, confused. Logan wished he knew how to fix him.

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _If my time was up I'd wanna know_ **

** _You were happy I was there_ **

Thomas called on Logan the most. Logan would find him curled up on the couch or in his bed, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Yes, Thomas?”

“... What would happen if I was… gone?”

The first time this happened, Logan didn’t understand. Even after Thomas clarified that he meant death, Logan wasn’t getting it. He had responded, “Well, it would take some time, but your body would eventually decompose—”

“No, I don’t mean…” Thomas sighed, curling up into himself even more. “I mean, how would my parents react. My friends, my family, my followers.”

“W-Well… I suppose your closest family members would mourn and attend your funeral. And as for the rest, they would be disappointed about the lack of content on your channel and accounts. I can only assume, but often when such a tragedy occurs to a well-known internet personality, many send their regards online, or create compilation videos in memoriam.”

“... But… you don’t think they’ll be… happy?”

Logan blinked. “Why would anyone be happy?”

Thomas went quiet. “Never mind. That’s all.”

Something was wrong. Logan could feel it. But it was rooted in emotions, something he still didn’t understand all too well, even with all the extra time he’d been spending with Patton. He couldn’t figure out why Thomas would send him in for a problem that was more Patton’s forte.

“... Thomas? Is something the matter?”

Thomas smiled wistfully. “No. I’m fine.”

***  
  


Logan couldn’t help but feel concerned. Upon Thomas’s request, he sunk out into the light side’s living room. He could hear Roman and Remus arguing upstairs, but that wasn’t anything new. He ignored their raised voices and started searching for Patton. Patton would know what to do.

He found Patton sitting on a chair in the kitchen, gazing down into a mug of hot chocolate. Logan shuddered. Patton was very still, and something about him didn’t seem right.

“Patton?”

The moral side glanced up at Logan, and his eyes sparkled. “Logan.”

Logan forced a smile and placed himself in a seat beside him. “I need to speak with you. Something seems to be wrong with Thomas, and I believe it has to do with his emotions. That’s your area of expertise. Do you have any idea what it could be?”

Patton stared at him for a moment, looking dazed. Seconds of silence passed, Patton’s eyes seeming to fade by the moment. Logan wasn’t sure he even heard him; Patton sat there looking at Logan, but it seemed like he wasn’t there. Like he wasn’t thinking at all, or he was thinking about something else. Logan felt cold. He reached out to touch his boyfriend on the shoulder when suddenly Patton smiled at him. The smile didn’t meet his eyes.

“Well, Logan, to me, everything seems just **right**.”

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anyone lose sleep_ **

** _If I wasn't hard and hollow_ **

** _Then maybe you would miss me_ **

Thomas went through his everyday routine like usual, bothered by some of his thoughts but able to ignore them, for the most part.

And then one of his close friends had a stroke.

Thomas visited them in the hospital, but he could tell they weren’t all there. There was a gap in their memory, and whenever Thomas tried to gently tell them about it, they just wouldn’t listen. It was like their attention shifted completely; they forgot what they had been talking about, and started asking other questions. They forgot members of their own family. They forgot what they had been doing that day. They thought they were still at home, cooking in the kitchen, when in reality they were lying in a hospital bed. They hadn’t eaten in two days, but they were convinced they’d eaten a full meal and couldn’t possibly take in anything more.

It was incredibly frustrating, but more heartbreaking than anything else. When Thomas visited them the second time, they smiled like they knew him, and then asked what his name was. It hurt. It hurt, but Thomas just smiled back and answered all of their questions. He pushed down his own grief. Part of him knew his friend was lost, but he hoped it would get better. He hoped.

It didn’t.

Weeks and weeks of treatment went on, but the nurses found out his friend had cancer spread throughout their body, which had slowly developed over the past several years. His friend hadn’t known about it — or, if they had, they never tried to do anything about it. Thomas wished he could speak to his old friend, the one who was always there for him, but his friend wasn’t there. In their place was this confused stranger.

His friend’s family put them on treatment for the cancer, too, escalating the hospital bill to thousands of dollars. Thomas could only imagine how horrible it must have been. He started a fundraiser for his friend’s family to help pay what the insurance didn’t cover. He visited his friend at least twice a week, but each time he drove home crying. Thoughts of death surrounded him day and night. As weeks of treatment turned into months, and his friend never recovered mentally or physically, Thomas wondered if death was the better alternative to this torture.

Four months later, Thomas didn’t want to visit his friend anymore. His visits dropped to once a week at most, but they took more out of him every time. His friend would tell him how lonely they were. Sometimes they would cry, and he almost couldn’t force himself to stay. They would ask him why he didn’t visit more. They thought he hadn’t visited in years. He tried to convince them that he’d been there last week, but they didn’t listen. They couldn’t. They weren’t in control of their own mind anymore.

Slowly, Thomas started wondering if he was in control of his.

Some days he couldn’t drag himself out of the house. Some days he couldn’t even drag himself out of bed. It was too much. His thoughts were rarely on his friend, but something about the situation had worsened his depression regardless. His only thoughts were on how pathetic he was, how he couldn’t even manage simple things anymore. He pushed people away, then thought about how much they must have hated him. He felt tired, but he couldn’t sleep. He could take short naps, but the dreams were never pleasant, and sometimes he would get stuck in loops of dreams. It was like being waterboarded. He would fall into a dream and drown in boredom, and then awaken for only a matter of seconds, just to be thrown back into the dream. He couldn’t escape it, no matter how much he tried. Thomas longed to sleep peacefully, without the dreams, without waking up. The more he considered it, the darker his thoughts became, the stronger Remus got and the weaker Roman became, the more distorted Patton’s thoughts were, the scareder Virgil felt, the harder Logan and Deceit had to work against it.

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_ **

Thomas gathered his sides and told them about it. Roman and Virgil panicked. Remus just stood there looking conflicted between excitement, morbid curiosity, and concern. Logan and Deceit tried to reason with Thomas, and Patton just smiled. No one paid much attention to him, despite his disconcerting attitude.

It was only when he spoke that they realized he wasn’t himself.

“It’s okay to have these thoughts, kiddo. You just gotta keep them to yourself; don’t bother anyone else over it.”

Logan spun around and stared at Patton incredulously. The moral side tilted his head like a confused puppy. “What’s the matter, Logan?”

“Patton,” he whispered. “What have you been telling him?”

“Only the things that’ll make Thomas a good person.”

Roman shot Logan a nervous glance. “Y-You don’t think…?”

“Patton.” Deceit was glaring now. “What do you think makes Thomas a good person?”

Patton shrugged. “A good person puts others first. And clearly Thomas should not be around people right now. The way he is, everyone’s better off without him.”

The room fell silent. Horrified eyes landed on Patton, whose bright smile had not left his face. He was completely unaware of their response. He just looked at Thomas, whose shoulders were hunched and eyes were squeezed shut. “See, Thomas is doing well.”

“Patton…” Roman was shaking his head in disbelief. “Something’s wrong with you.”

Patton frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re telling him lies,” Deceit murmured. The moral side shook his head.

“No, I’m telling the truth. It’s better for everyone if he’s not around. He’ll only mess up his friendships and bother people. No one wants to be around someone who’s like that. He should deal with it by himself.” Patton shot Logan a smile, as if there was nothing wrong with what he said. There were a few cries of outrage. Logan stalked over to Patton and placed his palm over the moral side’s forehead.

“He’s too hot,” Logan murmured.

“Hot damn. Call the police and the fire man,” Remus sung. Deceit quieted him with a glare.

“He might have a fever,” Logan continued. “Something’s wrong with him. Patton… Tell me, are you dizzy? Do you feel strange at all?”

Patton stepped away from the logical side, his smile faltering. “I… I don’t know, I…” He blinked, and it was like his persona completely changed. He hugged himself, eyes downcast. “Logan…? Logan, what’s wrong with me? I’m— I’m not thinking right, I—”

His breathing was accelerating. Virgil and Logan were there in a flash, trying to calm him down before the situation got worse. He hugged Logan like he was holding on for his life, while Virgil tapped steady breathing patterns on his shoulder and spoke to him.

Deceit turned to Thomas, who had uncurled himself and was now watching Patton in concern. He looked like he would be okay for a while. “Thomas, we _ won’t _find out what is wrong with Patton. In the meantime, take care of yourself, and please, do not listen to any suggestions from Patton or Remus.”

Thomas nodded, standing up. “I’m going to make some pizza; maybe food will help.”

Roman, Remus, and Deceit walked over to the others, and they all sunk down together.

***

Logan tried to stay with Patton over the next couple of weeks, but he couldn’t find a way to fix him. Patton seemed to have a fever and was delirious at times, but other days his temperature was almost normal and he could carry on like everything was fine. But it wasn’t.

Some days, when Logan let his guard down, he found Patton telling Thomas that it was wrong to contact any of his friends, that it wasn’t wrong to want to hurt himself, that maybe he deserved to be feeling bad because he did something wrong. No matter how many times Logan explained that he was wrong, that this wasn’t helping, Thomas couldn’t remove the seed of doubt planted within him. And Patton just couldn’t understand. There were glimpses of normalcy, when the foggy confusion would clear and he would cry and latch onto Logan and apologize and beg for help, but Logan didn’t know what was wrong with him or how to fix him. It was like some mysterious force was taking control of the Patton they knew and loved, and they could do nothing about it.

Logan tried to keep Thomas logically-driven until his emotional side was back to normal. Deceit worked harder than before, focusing on Thomas’s self-preservation. Virgil, however, was afraid to act at all. He knew his control over Thomas was more delicate than the others; he could either make Thomas too anxious to enjoy life, or too anxious to make a dangerous decision. Deceit was with him every step of the way, talking him out of less-helpful decisions like making Thomas suddenly hang up the phone on his friends. The three of them distracted the creative sides and Patton with games and movies while they worked to regain control over Thomas; they hoped it would lessen the negative effects of Remus’s thoughts and Patton’s misguided beliefs.

But Virgil noticed. He noticed how little sleep Logan and Deceit were getting. He noticed their fatigue, them straining to act with the energy they needed to hold the most influence over Thomas. He noticed how long Thomas had been feeling this way, how it hadn’t been getting any better, and actually had been getting worse. No matter how much Logan and Deceit tried to persuade him, Thomas was still dealing with everything alone. He refused to seek help, either professionally or from his loved ones. They were running out of patience and energy. Soon they wouldn’t be able to deal with it anymore, and if they were out of commission, Virgil didn’t think he could take their place.

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

More time passed, and things got way worse. Thomas had gone beyond suicidal ideation, and his social isolation made him convinced he should take it a step further. He’d grabbed a knife before a panicking Deceit could pop up and talk him out of whatever plans his messed-up mind had made. Logan showed up soon after, and then the whole gang was there. It was frightening; it was chaotic. But they prevented him from doing anything rash, and convinced him to go back to his room. Once he was drifting off to sleep, the sides all sunk out into the light side living room, where Logan demanded an immediate family meeting be held.

Patton was crying hysterically. Deceit sat on the couch and held him in his arms, gently whispering soothing words to calm him down. Roman held onto the back of the couch with clenched fists, but his eyes showed more terror than fury. Remus paced around the room while doing twirls and walking with strange patterns, murmuring darkly to himself. Virgil sat himself on the arm of the couch, his knees pulled into his chest, teary-eyed. Their family was a complete mess. No wonder Thomas was doing so poorly.

“This can’t go on,” Logan sighed, walking over to the wall and placing his hand against it. “We need to sit here until we have a plan. Something is causing this to happen. There has to be a solution.”

“Something? Or someone?”

Logan glared at Roman. “Do you have an actual idea, or are you pointing fingers?”

“Something is putting these ideas in Thomas’s head, and it’s not just Patton!” Roman cried. Logan had to agree; though Patton was undeniably making things worse, he wasn’t the reason Thomas fell this far. Thomas was acting strangely before Patton was, and even some of the most recent happenings weren’t Patton’s suggestions. Or Remus’s, for that matter. It was like the ideas were coming out of nowhere — or, they were flowing around subconsciously.

“All right, but what do you suppose—”

“D-Deceit!” Roman stuck a finger in his face. “Stop telling him lies!”

Deceit’s face went cold. Remus glared at his brother and pulled out his morningstar, making Patton jump. He pointed his weapon at Roman. “Don’t you dare blame him!”

“What? Thomas is lying to himself! That’s his department!”

“Roman! We don’t do that,” Patton scolded, a brief flash of his normal self returning. “We don’t point fingers and we don’t label or emusize—”

“Ostracize,” Logan corrected with a look of exhaustion.  
“—ostracize anyone, not anymore.”

“Not anymore,” Virgil echoed quietly. Roman grimaced.  
“Someone had to have done this!” He argued. “You cannot deny that, and we have to get down to the bottom of this! Thomas is in a dark, dark place, and there has to be an explanation for this!”  
“There is, and we’ll find it,” Patton promised. His eyes shifted to his boyfriend. “... Right, Logan?”

All eyes fell on Logan, who — to their surprise — was leaning against the wall, his legs trembling like they couldn’t hold him up. The bags under his eyes were telling; soon enough, Logic would need a break, and Thomas could not afford to lose his Logic for even a minute, not in this state.

“Something has to be done about this, now,” Virgil said, his voice raising with his anxiety.

Deceit’s eyes widened. He raised his hands in a calming motion. “Virgil, please relax.”

“Hey, don’t you dare freak out now,” Roman snapped. “He can’t handle another anxiety attack.”

“Virgil, please,” Logan whispered. Virgil nodded, practicing his breathing techniques with Patton at his side, helping him regulate his breathing. They all relaxed when Thomas’s condition didn’t seem to get any worse. Not that it could get much worse.

“We need to go,” Remus mumbled, his nails digging into his skin. He stopped pacing, a dark look in his eyes. “I’m… going to…”  
“Don’t you dare,” Roman growled, grabbing his brother’s arm with a fierce hold. “Don’t. You. Dare. Get him killed.”

“Roman—”  
“That’s just what you want, isn’t it?!” Roman shook his brother by his shoulders, his voice rising. “You want him dead! You want me dead! Just say it! Just admit that you’re killing us!”

“Roman!” Deceit shouted, but he went ignored.

Roman’s eyes were blurred with tears and his face was deathly pale. “Because… that’s what’s happening… You know it too, don’t you?” Remus just stared at his brother. His shoulders were being gripped hard, like they were the only thing holding Roman to the world. They might have been; Roman seemed to be a lot weaker than he was letting on. His legs were wobbly. Tears trailed down his cheeks. “Brother, I don’t want to go… I don’t want Thomas to go… Please…”

“... So you want _ me _to go.”

Roman blinked. “What?”  
“Deceit. Open the subconscious.” Remus glanced at Deceit, who shook his head.

“Never.”

“Just do it, snake butt. It’s the only way.”

If it were even possible, Remus would’ve thought Roman’s grip on him tightened. “No. No, th-that’s not what I— I— Logan, do something already!!!”

** _If I wasn't here tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _Still stuck inside this sorrow_ **

** _I got nothin' and going nowhere_ **

“Calm down,” Logan commanded, his voice soft with fatigue. Everyone listened. “We all need to stop placing blame on one another. This is unproductive, and, frankly, it could make Thomas’s condition worse if we are all unable to take control. We all have the same purpose, to help Thomas. Every single one of us is not doing anything if not for Thomas’s well-being. We can not turn on each other, or Thomas is lost.” The other sides looked to their feet, like children being scolded by an authority figure. Patton clung onto Logan’s arm. “We have all failed him. And we can not continue.”

“What do you mean, we _ all _failed him?” Roman demanded.

“I was not strong enough to help Thomas see the logic behind seeking help and treating his condition as an illness. Patton is unable to show Thomas what he honestly means to his friends and followers, and has instead been confusing his mind with false morals Thomas never believed in.” Patton lowered his head, eyes brimming with tears. “Roman, your job is to create thoughts countering those of the Duke’s. You control the happier, more family-friendly and inspirational side of Thomas’s Creativity. However, you’ve been doing very little as of late.”  
“Not by my own choice,” Roman spoke through clenched teeth. He lifted his hand, which was becoming transparent. “I’ve done my _ best _ .” _ ‘Not good enough,’ _ he thought, but he pushed away the thought before it could affect him.

“We have all done the same,” Logan replied.

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever_ **

Later that day, Thomas was trudging down the stairs. With every step he took, he contemplated tripping and tumbling all the way down. His imagination gave way to pictures of splattered blood and broken bones.

_ Roman fell sick. He was taken care of on the couch in the light side’s living room by Remus and Logan. Sometime later that evening, Roman noticed his brother was absent, and a search found him trying to bash down the door to the subconscious with his morningstar. _

Thomas was walking to the front door with his phone in his pocket, when suddenly Patton popped up. “Whatcha doing there, kiddo?”

Thomas froze, his hand stalling in the air in front of the doorknob. “I-I was… I was just gonna hang out with Joan.”

“You sure they want you around in the condition you’re in, kiddo? Maybe you should sit this one out.”

“But… they invited me.”

“I’m sure they’ll be better off without you there. They only invited you ‘cause they’d feel bad if they didn’t. They don’t actually want you there.” His voice was too sweet, sickly sweet.

Deceit suddenly appeared, hissing at Patton with an accusatory finger. “Liesssss!”

Logan appeared beside him, pointing at Patton similarly. “Falsehood!” Patton blinked in confusion.

“N-No, he’s right,” Thomas mumbled. He shifted and glanced at the top of the stairs. “I’ll just… text them and say I’m not feeling well.”  
Deceit glowered. “No. I refuse to let you lie about this.”  
“It’s not a lie,” Thomas snapped. “Would you rather me not text him at all?”

Deceit and Logan exchanged glances. Thomas sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry, guys. I didn’t mean… I’m sorry. I’m heading back to sleep.” He ran up the stairs with a guilty face. Logan had to hold Deceit back from pouncing on Patton, who just smiled awkwardly.

“Thomas needs his friends,” Deceit growled. Patton shook his head.  
“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to bother Joan.”  
“It’s not bothering!”

Logan met Patton’s eyes. “Patton. The only thing that’s illogical is hiding your feelings. That’s what you told me. Do you remember?”

Patton bit his lip. “I… I…”

“Thomas can’t afford to hide his feelings any longer,” Logan stated. “It’s time for him to stop. He needs to see his friends. And you need to stop preventing him from that.”  
Patton winced. “You… You’re right…”

Logan sighed and took him into his arms. He placed a palm on Patton’s forehead, feeling the warmth from underneath. “Please don’t forget this.” Patton settled into the hug, closing his eyes. “Remember everything we’ve gone through and decided together. For all of us, for Thomas.”

“... I’m trying,” Patton whispered. Logan felt a tear drop onto his shoulder and shuddered, holding Patton tighter. “I really am.”

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

“I told you, I didn’t mean it!” Roman whimpered when a solemn Virgil dragged a disappointed Remus to the living room floor. The Duke made little effort to move even after he was dropped lying face-down on the floor, though he couldn’t help but make a joke about Virgil’s ass as he walked away. Roman tried to sit up, but it made him dizzy, so he fell back down. “It’s… It’s not worth it. Losing you.”

“I’m not worth Thomas and the rest of you,” Remus shrugged as he fiddled with a rubber band on his wrist. Logan gave it to him as an alternative to scratching himself. “Who knows; maybe the problem ends with me.”  
“You know that’s not how it works,” Logan argued.

“Oh yeah? And how _ does _ it work? Have you found anything out, _ Logan _ ?” Remus sneered. He was met with silence. “Then I don’t get why you’re stopping me.” His tone changed, to lighten the mood. “Really, this could be an _ experiment _. An exploration of the subconscious! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Maybe Thomas has an assortment of floating butts down there. He sure does like to suppress those images when I whip them up. Still don’t get that.”

“We don’t know if your sacrifice would be in vain,” Logan replied quietly.

“It’s not worth it,” Roman mumbled. “It’s not worth the risk.”  
“But it is, Roman!” Remus shouted. Everyone flinched. “Why else would Thomas be getting worse while I’m getting stronger?! Why else would you be dying?! If it’s me or you—”  
“No.”  
“ _ If it’s me or you _, Thomas needs you more!”

“That’s not true!” Patton cried.

Deceit threw his arms around Remus, who half-heartedly struggled against him. “I _ will _ let you do this. You’re _ not _ everything to me. I _ can _lose you.”

Virgil joined in the hug. “If you go, we go together.” Remus sighed and gave in, but he remained standing with his arms at his sides, refusing to reciprocate.

“This is a mistake,” he said in a sing-songy voice, but no one listened to him.

Roman shivered. Logan covered him with another set of blankets, then took Patton’s temperature with a thermometer. Neither was good. He wanted to put his head in his hands and scream. He didn’t know what to do.

** _I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone_ **

** _Someone that I'd like better_ **

** _Can you help me forget, don't wanna feel like this forever_ **

“I can fix him; I promise!” Patton exclaimed. Logan almost pulled his hair out in frustration.

“No, Patton, you can not. We need external assistance; it’s been half a year and Thomas has still not improved. We need him to seek therapy.”

“But-!”  
“Patton. I need you on my side to convince him.”

Patton frowned. “But... “ He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. “You’re… You’re right. I just…” His eyes fell to his feet. Logan opened his mouth to speak but then he noticed Patton’s body sway to the side. He caught him just as he fainted.

“Patton!” Logan felt for his pulse, and found that it was steady. Thank Thomas. He gave himself a moment to relax, then decided they had to do this fast. He dropped Patton in his room and rose in Thomas’s kitchen, where he was eating some pizza he had just ordered.

“Logan?” Thomas dropped his slice on the plate, a panicked look in his eyes. “Oh no. What am I doing wrong now?”

“Nothing, Thomas. I apologize for concerning you.” A pinch of guilt. Seeing any of his sides was putting Thomas on edge lately. This only deepened his resolve to seek outside help. “Thomas, I think it would be in your best interests to seek out Joan’s company today.”

“... Why?”

“You have been isolating yourself, and we’ve all finally agreed that you need to stop. Please give Joan a call or text immediately and ask to engage in social activity as soon as possible.”  
“W-Why the rush?” Thomas looked anxious. Just at that moment, Virgil popped in. Logan quickly filled him in on their brief conversation, and Virgil nodded in agreement.

“Thomas, I know it’s going to seem weird, me pressuring you to go talk to people, but… We all think it’s for the best. You need them, Thomas.”

Thomas hesitated, but he looked into the eyes of his sides and saw their concern for him, and then his decision was made. “Okay. I’ll do it right now.” He pulled out his phone and dialed Joan’s number. Logan and Virgil held their breath as they waited for them to respond.

“......... Hey, Joan? It’s me, Thomas. … Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I… Yeah, something— something personal, I— Can I maybe come over? … Like, as soon as you’re free… Oh, r-really? … Thanks. Really, thanks, I… It’s a little serious, but don’t worry, I… Okay, I’ll see you there. Thanks again. Bye.” Thomas hung up the phone, then glanced at his Anxiety. He hadn’t thought Virgil would hold out on that phone call, but somehow, he did. He saw the two of them let out a deep breath and smile proudly at him, and he smiled back. They did it for him. He couldn’t let them down now. He wasn’t going to back out of it now.

** _What if I just pulled myself together_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _What if I just tried not to remember_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

As Thomas drove over to Joan’s place, the tension in the mindscape escalated. Patton was still in his room, unconscious but safe. Deceit made all the sides hot chocolate, and they sat in the living room, putting all their focus on Thomas’s state of being. Roman was squeezed between Deceit and Remus on the couch, while Virgil sat on the arm of the couch and Logan sat in the armchair. They waited patiently, on edge for the entirety of the car ride. It was only a few minutes, but it felt like each second was being dragged out. Logan felt drowsiness attempting to pull him under, but he kept himself awake. It was only a little longer.

Thomas finally arrived. He was a little jittery, thanks to Virgil’s nerves, but he wasn’t feeling to urge to run away. He felt resigned to this role. He took each step to the front door like it was a chore he had to get done. By the time he reached the door, Joan was already there. Their eyes met and Deceit let out a whisper of “thank God” as Joan gave him a look of understanding and gently ushered him in.

They led Thomas to the couch and sat down beside him. They took a deep breath and then said, “All right. Tell me what’s going on.” They gave him a reassuring smile and waited patiently for a response.

Logan was about to urge Thomas on when suddenly a voice called out, “Logan? What are you doing?” He resisted the urge to sigh and turned to face his boyfriend. Patton was stumbling forward, his breath wheezy. His eyes were wide. “N-No, if Thomas—”

“Patton,” Logan called, hoping the desperation in his voice would break through. Patton faltered, then dropped to his knees beside the chair. “Thomas needs you to let it go.”

Patton trembled. “But…”

Deceit knelt beside Patton and placed his hands on the moral side’s shoulders. “You never had to carry all this weight on your own shoulders. Don’t make Thomas.”

Patton’s eyes began to tear up, and he hung his head with a weak nod. Simultaneously, Thomas found tears dripping down his cheeks. His breath hitched, and he began rubbing the tears away, only to have more fall in their place.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas and Patton said together, and the dam broke. Joan pulled Thomas into their arms and held him while he got the tears out of his system. Logan dropped to the floor and embraced Patton while Deceit wiped away his tears.

“I see,” Deceit whispered. Logan was about to ask what he meant, but then Patton began to sob and suddenly each of the sides recoiled as a wave of despair rolled through their bodies. Deceit placed his hand on Patton’s forehead and said, “Depression is not a side; it acts more like a virus, infecting us from the inside out. It doesn’t affect us because we are not human. Instead, it acts through us by incapacitating us; then, it subconsciously reaches Thomas.”

“And, as the center of Thomas’s emotions, Patton would be affected far more severely than the rest of us,” Logan finished.

“... If I _ did _ know better, I _ wouldn’t _say Patton took the worst of it to protect the rest of us,” Deceit added. “Whether subconsciously or not. Why else would we have felt such raw emotion just now?”

Logan stroked Patton’s back. He couldn’t argue. It made logical sense.

They’d need to have another talk when this was over, about why Patton was _ still repressing _. Old habits were hard to kill, Logan supposed.

Deceit backed away from them with a small smirk. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that fever for long. He’s _ not _already feeling and acting much better.”

Logan looked down at Patton, who was now clenching his t-shirt with his fists. “I-I’m sorry…”

“Shh. You have nothing to be sorry for,” Logan murmured. Patton chuckled.

“I love you all so much… Especially you, Logi… You know that, right?”  
“I do.” Logan looked at Thomas and Joan, still wrapped up in their own embrace as a weeping Thomas confessed everything that had been going on inside his head, and outside. “Let it all out. Everything will be alright.” He was sure of it.

** _If I left tomorrow would anybody care_ **

** _Stuck in this sorrow_ **

** _Going nowhere_ **

Roman sat up and raised his hand, watching as the transparency that had been slowly taking over faded away, leaving his skin looking and feeling completely solid once more. His head felt clearer than it had been in weeks. He could have cried. (He did.) Virgil noticed his boyfriend’s health returning as soon as he did and leapt on him without warning. Roman let out a shaky laugh and pulled apart just enough for him to cup Virgil’s cheek. Virgil smiled as he watched color return to Roman’s face, like the life that had been drained was now being restored. Roman’s eyes wandered to his lips and Virgil leaned in until they met. It had been too long, and they were greedy for one another. Roman was like fire and Virgil was lightning, both sides warring for dominance over the other as their hands roamed each other, feeling what they had missed out on during the long, bleak months of Thomas’s depression. Needing more, more, more. Roman’s energy ran out first, and he let himself fall back, pulling away from their kiss to catch his breath. He was feeling better, but he still wasn’t 100% himself yet. Virgil crawled into his lap with a smirk. “I win,” he boasted.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You just wait till I get my full strength back, Sir Stormcloud. We’ll see who’s on top then.”

“Listen, Roman, we all know you’re a bottom, so don’t deny it,” Remus cut in. Roman growled at him but he just shrugged back and removed himself from the couch, skipping over to Deceit instead. Deceit had moved to the bottom of the staircase and was sitting on a step, watching the hopelessly-in-love sides with an amused smile.

“Yoo-hoo! Guess who’s back?” Remus plopped down beside him.

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Remus giggled and pecked Deceit on the cheek. Deceit couldn’t help how his heart started racing, but he kept a cool, blank mask and simply eyed Remus from the side.

“And why was that necessary?”

“Oh, look at the mood, Dee!” Remus waved his arms around as emphasis. Deceit glanced at Logan and Patton, still engulfed in a tight hug, and Roman and Virgil. Virgil was still seated over Roman and they seemed to be talking, but every once in a while Virgil would lean down and give Roman a kiss on the nose or forehead and play with his hair.

“It’s _ horrendous _.”

“Aaaaaand…” Deceit held his breath at the sound of mischief in Remus’s voice. “You never gave me an answer, before.”

“An answer about what?” Deceit knew what he meant.

Remus leaned closer, dropping his voice. “An answer about u—” He was cut off when Deceit suddenly grabbed him by the chin, quickly but gently, and dazed him with three kisses — one to each side of his mouth, and one to his forehead. Remus blinked, stunned.

“Oh, I forgot one.” Deceit placed one last kiss on Remus’s jawline, then raised his lips to his ear and whispered, “_ Do _ scare me like that ever again.” Remus shuddered as Deceit pulled away, briefly stunned as if he’d been put under a spell. But then Deceit got up and began walking away, and Remus, being… well, Remus, recovered quickly.

A big grin took over his face as he jumped to his feet and chased after Deceit. “Aww, don’t tease me!” He caught up to the snake and spun around him so they were face-to-face. As much as Deceit liked to act, there was no way he could hide the blush burning up his face, especially when their eyes met and he saw the chaotic joy in Remus’s eyes. “All the teasing needs to happen in the bedroom~! But I’ll give you a sneak-peek of the PG-13 material.” Before Deceit could act, Remus had closed in on him and was planting kisses in the crook of Deceit’s neck. He had never felt such pleasure before in his life; it almost made him forget where he was. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to let out a moan. _ Not here, not where the others could see and hear him! _When Remus pulled away, Deceit took a step back, eyes wide.

“How did you know—?”

Always one to get in a person’s face, Remus stepped closer.“Your sweet spot? That’s a secret. I bet you’re dying to know what _ other _secrets I know…” He laughed, and it warmed a spot in the cold-blooded snake’s heart. “Guess you’ll have to find out!”

Deceit allowed himself a small smirk as he stood his ground, meeting Remus’s eyes, meeting his challenge. “I suppose so.”

** _All the chances that have passed me by_ **

** _Would it matter if I gave it one more try_ **

** _Would it matter at all_ **

  
_ One week later... _

“I hope you’ve all learned something from this, and you all take the time you need to love and care for yourself.” Thomas smiled into the camera. “I know it can take time, and it can be a long battle. Even I’m still struggling with it right now, but trust me, it’s worth the effort.”

“No need to worry about that, Thomas,” Roman laughed, pecking Virgil on the cheek. Virgil’s cheeks reddened and he looked away, smiling bashfully. “There’s enough love to go around here.”  
Thomas blinked. “... Wait, you guys are—?”

“Oh _ no _! Thomas doesn’t know!” Virgil groaned. Patton giggled, warming Logan’s heart.

Deceit rolled his eyes. “Good going, Roman.”

“Wait! Thomas just saw that, right? We can be open now, right?!” Remus grinned like a maniac. Before anyone could respond, he’d pounced on Deceit, sending them both crashing to the floor. Logan winced. Catching Thomas’s confused wide-eyed stare, he said, “One thing at a time, Thomas.” His host nodded and wrapped up the video. When the button to end the recording was pressed, Thomas couldn’t help but smile. His fans were going to freak out at the end of this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.quotev.com/story/12286900/Sanders-Sides-Stories-One-Shots/9
> 
> [News for Sanders Sides fans: I'm working on a massive four-book college AU! Would you like to create original characters to make minor or major appearances? Would you just like a name to be featured as an easter egg? Or do you have any ideas you'd like me to slip in? Leave me a comment or go to my profile. Follow this link for more information, and shoot me a message on Quotev! If you don't have a Quotev account, you can contact me through the comments here or by emailing Zukithechosenone@gmail.com.]


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